


North Star

by iwatsukki



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Angst, M/M, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25268239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwatsukki/pseuds/iwatsukki
Summary: It can’t be healthy to have adrenaline coursing constantly through your veins, Iwaizumi thinks. Every capillary, everycellin his body thrums in time with the rapid beating of his heart, and he wonders why he’s not yet desensitized to continuous panic. Although, he supposes that racing down the highway, well above the speed limit, in a stolen, beat-up car with a trunk full of cash, would stress even the most wanted criminals.A title to which Iwaizumi was well on his way.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 40
Kudos: 43





	1. Asterism

**Author's Note:**

> This story touches on some heavy topics, but I don't anticipate that there will be graphic descriptions of anything. I do not want to make light of any of the dark aspects of this story. 
> 
> I will add content warnings at the beginning of each chapter, if necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: past homophobia, implied abuse

It can’t be healthy to have adrenaline coursing constantly through your veins, Iwaizumi thinks. Every capillary, every _cell_ in his body thrums in time with the rapid beating of his heart, and he wonders why he’s not yet desensitized to continuous panic. Although, he supposes that racing down the highway, well above the speed limit, in a stolen, beat-up car with a trunk full of cash, would stress even the most wanted criminals.

A title to which Iwaizumi was well on his way. 

The overwhelming trepidation fades over a short while and settles into a comfortable anxiety humming dully in the back of Iwaizumi’s mind. He stops thinking about the small fortune sitting in the back and doesn’t have a mild breakdown over any car that drives behind him for more than thirty seconds. Iwaizumi has no destination in mind, and truthfully he has no idea where he is. Directions were never his strength, and he ditched his phone a while back. 

He’s not sure how long he’s been driving so far--he only knows that he hasn’t stopped since he started. It barely seems like Iwaizumi has covered any ground, though, because the scenery hasn’t changed since he reached the outskirts of the city, but he could chalk that up to his erratic choice of route. Iwaizumi has been taking random twists and turns, thinking that might throw them off his scent.

The sun rises over the horizon, illuminating the endless desert vista and haloing the mountain peaks and rock formations lining the road. The beginnings of daylight bring an end to the cool night and give rise to the scorching heat of day, and Iwaizumi thanks whatever god is listening because he happened to steal a car with a functional air conditioner. A couple hours must have passed already since Iwaizumi started driving, considering he fled in the middle of the night. 

Unfortunately, Iwaizumi is less lucky when it comes to the gas tank. He startles when the fuel light flashes on and dread fills his stomach when he sees how close to empty the gauge is. Part of him panics--any moment that isn’t spent in motion is time wasted, time that will almost certainly equate to life or death. The more rational part of him knows that no matter what, a short trip to the gas station is necessary to avoid a breakdown on the side of the road. If that were to happen, it would definitely be Iwaizumi’s end. The rational part of him also knows that he can’t survive without some kind of nourishment, so he searches for food when he goes into the shop at the nearest gas station. 

There’s a strange, off-putting energy pulsing through the air of the store, basically empty except Iwaizumi and a bored-looking cashier with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. The smell of smoke makes Iwaizumi nauseous and he rushes to gather a package of energy drinks and a few snacks into his arms before heading up to the front to pay. He drops it all on the counter and sighs as the cashier takes an infuriatingly long time counting out the paper bills Iwaizumi hands to him. 

A fly buzzes around the harsh, flickering light illuminating the cramped space behind the counter and Iwaizumi studies the rainbow of liquor bottles and cigarette boxes lining the walls, trying not to think about all the time being wasted by the incompetent clerk. Suddenly, Iwaizumi can feel eyes on him from behind and the hair on the back of his neck stands straight up. A chill runs up his spine and goosebumps erupt all over his arms, despite the blistering heat in the dingy shop. There’s a murky feeling in his gut, akin to dread. How disappointing it would be to have already been caught, before the chase even really started. And yet, the thought fills Iwaizumi with a sense of relief. 

Against his better judgement, Iwaizumi turns his head to look behind him and sees a flash of movement--at least he thinks he does. The store is completely silent besides the staticky radio playing over the overhead speakers and the distinct noise of money being counted. There’s no evidence of anything else in the store, in both sight and sound, and Iwaizumi chalks it up as a paranoia-induced hallucination. He needs to get back on the road so he can get the hell out of this place. 

The gas pump isn’t covered by an awning, so the sun beats relentlessly onto his skin, likely adding a whole new set of wrinkles on top of those induced by stress. The heat burns but Iwaizumi finds that he likes it, leaning back against the car with his eyes closed as he waits for the tank to fill up. The wind singing through the sparse vegetation surrounding the parking lot is strangely comforting, and he’s disappointed when he hears the fuel pump shut off from the full tank. Iwaizumi would have liked to stand there and let the sun cook him, burning off his skin and boiling his blood, until he was nothing but a sentient puddle of flesh on the concrete. He sighs and hangs up the pump before turning around and going to unlock the car. 

He nearly screams when he sees a man crouched near his trunk, hiding poorly behind Iwaizumi’s car. 

Immediately, Iwaizumi assumes the worst, reaching to grip the Glock hidden in his waistband, but he stops himself when he actually gets a good look at the man. He trembles pathetically and Iwaizumi can’t help but notice how deathly pale he is, like he hasn’t seen the sun in ages. His russet hair is dirty and dull, despite the shining sun, and the fear is evident in the way his body is curled in on himself. The most striking thing to Iwaizumi, though, are his eyes--rimmed with bruises and full of pure desperation. 

“Who the hell are you?” Iwaizumi asks. The man flinches, and guilt pokes at the back of Iwaizumi’s mind. “What do you want?” 

The man takes a shuddering breath and stands up to his full height--he’s a bit taller than Iwaizumi. Normally that would be intimidating to Iwaizumi, but more noticeable than the man’s height is his build--rail thin, like Iwaizumi could snap his bones with barely any effort. 

“I need to get out of here,” the man says, hands balled into fists at his sides. He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. “I don’t know where you’re going, but please take me with you.” 

“You don’t even know me,” Iwaizumi replies, incredulous. It’s incredibly bold to ask something like that of a complete stranger in the middle of nowhere. He wonders if the man would be asking him if he knew what Iwaizumi was running from. “What if I were someone bad? Someone that could hurt you?” 

The man’s face contorts into an expression of pain and Iwaizumi immediately regrets his words. He starts to say something else but stops when the man opens his eyes and looks straight at him. His expression is neutral, but there’s an unmistakable emptiness in the man’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispers, “there’s no way you could hurt more than I’ve already been hurt.” 

Iwaizumi stares at him for a moment with his mouth gaping, but composes himself quickly. There are a million thoughts running through his head but most of all he’s concerned. He hasn’t seen such an alarming look in someone’s eyes for awhile. “Fine, you can come with me, but we have to be quick,” he says, despite every neuron in his brain warning him against it. “What’s your name?” 

The man stares at Iwaizumi blankly for a moment, as if he’s confused by the question. He pauses like he has to think hard about the answer and he looks away, the gears visibly turning in his head. He startles, suddenly, and looks up at Iwaizumi like he’s just had a revelation. “My name is Tooru Oikawa.” 

____ 

_Growing up poor was hard on Iwaizumi, as it would be on anyone. Desolation and destruction had surrounded him since before he was born, and he had bore more than his fair share of tragedy._

_At first, he thought that things could be worse. Anxiety was always simmering beneath his surface--worry about when he would be able to eat next or if he would have a roof over his head in the next month. But he was blessed with a mother and father that loved him--or so he thought._

_When he came out to his parents at age eighteen, his father struck him so hard that he hit the ground, shattering the illusion of a happy family that he so desperately clung to. He picked himself up with a bruised face and broken heart, and left. He never saw his parents again._

_Iwaizumi thanked his lucky stars that he had a friend who was willing to take him in after that._

_He had gotten a bullshit cashier job at a local store when he was a teenager and quickly became friends with his coworker, Shimizu Kiyoko. She was a couple years older than Iwaizumi and easy to get along with--quiet and stoic but incredibly kind and caring. Never before had Iwaizumi clicked so seamlessly with someone._

_Iwaizumi never had a biological sibling, but he could tell that the love Shimizu had for him was like that of an older sister._

_Shimizu had quit her job at the store pretty soon after Iwaizumi started, but insisted that she and Iwaizumi keep in touch even though they didn’t see each other very often. After Iwaizumi left his parent’s house he showed up at her door, and she wrapped him in a hug and let him inside._

_Her apartment was the most luxurious space Iwaizumi had ever been in. He wasn’t sure what she did for a living, and whenever he asked about it she avoided answering._

_They lived together for five years, with Iwaizumi still working at the store and contributing as best he could to the household. Shimizu worked too long of hours and frequently had to work nights, but she never complained that Iwaizumi couldn’t quite contribute his full share of rent. He did the best he could in making it up to her, keeping the apartment clean and making sure there was food for Shimizu to eat whenever she returned from work. She would come home from her shifts, haggard and disheveled, worked to the bone. But she always smiled at Iwaizumi when she saw him, treated him gently, and thanked him for what he did for her. Iwaizumi loved her so much. He would do anything for her._

_Staying with Shimizu was the most comfortable Iwaizumi had ever been. At least for a little while._

____

Iwaizumi has been driving for over an hour with Oikawa in the passenger’s seat, but neither of them have spoken a word. Oikawa has his knees drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around his shins. He’s been staring out the window the entire time, lost in thought, and completely oblivious to the frequent glances that Iwaizumi has been stealing. Iwaizumi can’t help but notice the bones of his arms and legs, on display in Oikawa’s outfit that consisted only of a ratty t-shirt and shorts. Iwaizumi gulps, uncomfortable. 

“If you’re hungry, there’s some food in that bag,” Iwaizumi says, pointing to the plastic shopping bag on the passenger’s side floor. Oikawa doesn’t acknowledge him in the slightest, and Iwaizumi has a feeling that Oikawa isn’t ignoring him on purpose. “Are you listening?” 

Oikawa freezes, muscles rigid, and then he relaxes when he realizes who is speaking to him. “Huh?” 

“I said that there’s food in that bag if you’re hungry.” 

“Oh, okay,” Oikawa says, but he doesn’t move and instead stares back out the window. Iwaizumi sort of wants to insist that he eat, considering how much it looks like he needs food, but he doesn’t push it. He’s not sure why he cares to begin with. “What’s your name?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi feels stupid for not introducing himself earlier.

“Iwaizumi.” 

Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa for another moment. He picks at his nails and Iwaizumi watches his tongue dart out of his mouth to lick off the blood from his cuticles. His fingers are long and slender with knobby knuckles. The skin covering his bones is nearly translucent, so ghostly that Iwaizumi can see blue-green veins pulsing beneath his complexion. If Iwaizumi looks closely, he thinks he can make out bruises circling Oikawa’s frail wrists that look suspiciously like hand-prints. 

Oikawa’s face is strangely enrapturing. He has sharp, high cheekbones that are exaggerated by how gaunt he is, and his almond-shaped eyes are angled slightly upward. His eyelashes are long and fan out, and his dry-looking hair curls around his ears.There’s a spattering of freckles across his sloped nose. Iwaizumi hadn’t noticed them before--did they just now appear from the sun streaming through the car window? 

Iwaizumi tears his eyes away, suddenly self-conscious about how closely he was studying the stranger next to him. Luckily Oikawa didn’t seem to notice him, too lost in thought. 

The day escapes them and Iwaizumi only realizes how long he’s been driving when he sees the sun setting in the rearview mirror. They still haven’t spoken and Oikawa seems to be in and out of sleep, which only reminds Iwaizumi how tired he is. There’s only so much that energy drinks can do to keep him awake. 

Maybe Oikawa can take over driving for a while so that Iwaizumi can sleep. He has the cash to pull over and stop for the night at a motel, but he isn’t sure that he wants to take the risk. Stopping for any amount of time could be dangerous. 

“Do you know how to drive?” Iwaizumi asks, startling Oikawa again. His head whips to look at Iwaizumi but he quickly averts his gazes, eyes full of some sort of shame. 

“I used to.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

Oikawa considers the question for a moment. “It’s just been a while since I’ve had the chance to drive.” 

“How long is a while?” Iwaizumi asks. He barely cares if Oikawa is a bad driver. This isn’t even his car, and based on how scared he was at the gas station, Iwaizumi knows that Oikawa isn’t going to drive them back towards the city. 

Oikawa gulps. “I’m not sure.” 

He’s afraid to push it, so Iwaizumi turns his attention back to the road and the quickly darkening sky. His stomach rumbles, and he realizes that he’s already eaten all of the snacks he bought earlier. Just like his car breaking down, starvation isn’t conducive to a quick getaway, so he pulls into the parking lot of a 24-hour diner. The flickering neon lights on the restaurant’s sign are unsettling, but Iwaizumi is too hungry to care. 

When Iwaizumi puts the car in park, Oikawa suddenly realizes that they’ve stopped. “What’s going on?” he asks, panicked. 

“I’m starving, come on,” Iwaizumi says, slipping out of his seat and slamming the driver’s side door behind him. Oikawa scurries out after him, following close behind. The two of them enter the diner and sit at a booth with ripped, worn-out vinyl seats. The menu is extensive, but Iwaizumi settles on a burger and fries and waits for the waitress to come take their order. “What are you going to get?” he asks Oikawa, who hasn’t even picked up the menu. 

“Oh, I’m alright. I don’t have any money anyway,” he says, resting his elbows on the table. He threads his fingers through the greasy trends of his hair and Iwaizumi doesn’t miss how his hands tremble. 

“Don’t worry about it, I can buy. What do you want?” 

Oikawa picks at his cuticles again, and Iwaizumi wonders if there’s even any skin left to peel off. “Whatever you’re getting is fine, I guess.” 

Iwaizumi grunts in acknowledgement and tells the waitress that they want two cheeseburgers each with a side of fries. Normally Iwaizumi would try and go for something healthier, but he isn’t sure that he gives a fuck at the moment. He figures that based solely on appearances, a greasy, fatty meal would probably do Oikawa some good anyway. 

They sit in relative silence for a little while, neither of them feeling particularly talkative. The food comes out and Iwaizumi nearly inhales his burger. It's not even that good but he’s so ravenous that he barely cares to take his time. He’s reaching for the half-empty bottle of ketchup on the table when he notices that Oikawa hasn’t touched his food. 

“Why aren’t you eating?” he asks, dumping a glob of ketchup on his plate for the fries. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Eat,” Iwaizumi says, and he doesn’t mean for it to come out so harshly. Oikawa winces and brings a french fry to his lips like it pains him. He bites off half of it and chews like someone is holding a gun to his head. 

After a moment, Oikawa’s eyes light up. He stares owlishly at the food and then starts to eat, shockingly fast. Iwaizumi wants to make a comment about how eating too quickly will upset his stomach, but he decides against it. 

“I haven’t had food like that in a long time,” Oikawa comments after cleaning his plate. It's the first thing he’s said that hasn’t been in response to a question Iwaizumi. “Thank you.” 

Iwaizumi blushes, and struggles to decipher the reverent look on Oikawa’s face. “It’s not a problem,” he mumbles, unsure why he’s embarrassed. Something behind Iwaizumi must catch Oikawa’s attention because he watches whatever it is closely, his wistful eyes the most full of life that Iwaizumi has seen so far. Iwaizumi turns around and sees a waitress carrying a tray of milkshakes to another table. 

“I want one of those,” Oikawa sighs, and then slaps a hand over his mouth when he realizes what he’s said. His shoulders start to shake and tears start to well up in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--” 

“I’ll order one for you,” Iwaizumi says, quickly so Oikawa can’t finish whatever he was about to say. He’s taken aback by how quickly Oikawa shifted from contentedness to panic, his entire demeanor changing because of something as innocent as voicing his want for a fucking milkshake. Something is very wrong with Oikawa, and Iwaizumi isn’t sure he’s brave enough to think about what that might be. 

“No, it’s okay, I’m sorry, I don’t need--” 

“Ma’am! Can we get a vanilla milkshake to go?” Iwaizumi shouts to the waitress. “Is vanilla okay?” he asks Oikawa, realizing he didn’t even see what flavor he wanted. 

Oikawa nods meekly. The waitress brings them a milkshake in a styrofoam cup after a minute and Iwaizumi leaves a wad of cash on the table. “Lets go, Oikawa. Don’t forget your shake.” 

Oikawa follows Iwaizumi out to the car, sipping on his milkshake. Iwaizumi reminds Oikawa to buckle his seatbelt and starts the car, shifting it into drive. He pulls out of the parking lot onto the gravelly road, driving east. It’s late and he’s exhausted, but he thinks he’ll be able to make it through the night and the following day with the help of a couple more energy drinks. 

“Where are we going?” Oikawa asks, after a while. 

“I’m not sure. Somewhere far away.”


	2. Rogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer that i don't hate shiratorizawa, i actually really like all of them and think they have a fun team dynamic. they just fit in well to be the antagonists of this story lol 
> 
> CW: brief physical violence; brief description of a panic attack (not detailed)

_Iwaizumi awoke to loud, repeated slamming noise in the middle of the night, on a day where Shimizu had a late shift. Normally Iwaizumi did his best to wait up for her and make sure she was home safely every night, but he had been working so much himself that he could barely keep his eyes open once he got home from his own shift._

_The noise came from outside the apartment, but Iwaizumi could tell that it was nearby. Investigating could be dangerous, based on how loud it was and how forceful it sounded, so Iwaizumi fought off his curiosity and stayed back. The slams were peppered with the angry voice of a man, but Iwaizumi couldn’t tell what he was saying. The sound subsided after a few moments, letting Iwaizumi relax, if only for a moment._

_He startled when the apartment door opened. Tentatively, Iwaizumi left his room and ventured out into the hallway. He’s met with a sight that makes his stomach turn._

_Shimizu collapsed on the ground, with bruises rimming her left eye and blood dripping out of her nose._

_“Kiyoko!” Iwaizumi called, racing over to her so quickly that he nearly tripped over his own feet. “God, what happened to you?”_

_“Ah, Hajime, I was hoping you’d be asleep by now.”_

_“I heard a noise… please tell me it wasn’t you.”_

_Shimizu smiled sadly, lifting a hand to cradle Iwaizumi’s cheek. “I’m okay, Hajime. You can go back to sleep.”_

_“No!” Iwaizumi shouted, scaring both of them. He spoke again, but in a softer voice. “You need help, now.”_

_“There’s not a lot that can be done.”_

_“Please let me help you.”_

_Shimizu was silent, her gasping breaths settling heavy in the air._

_Shaking his head, Iwaizumi went to the bathroom to grab a damp washcloth, and wiped gently at the blood drying on Shimizu’s face. “Please, please tell me what happened, Kiyoko,” he begged, feeling tears well up in his eyes. “I’ve never pressed you about your job, but I’m not stupid, I know something is wrong.”_

_“Do you see how I’m dressed, Hajime?”_

_When he looked at her, realization dawned on him. Her shirt was cut low and slipped off her shoulders, the bottom hem barely touching the top of her skirt. If you could even call it a skirt. She wore ripped tights and high heels, and there was dark makeup smudged around her eyes._

_“Normally I change before I get home,” she explained, which made sense. Iwaizumi had never seen her dressed like this after work before. “I suppose you could say tonight didn’t go well, so I didn’t have a chance to change before I left.”_

_“You don’t have to do this, I’ll take extra shifts, or find another job, I’ll do anything--”_

_Shimizu shushed him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “It’s okay, Hajime, you don’t have to do that.”_

_Iwaizumi knew that protesting would be useless. Not with Shimizu’s resolve. Once she started something, she stuck with it until it was finished._

_“Why did you hide this from me?” he asked, resting his forehead against hers. He stopped trying to keep himself from crying. Iwaizumi didn’t know this kind of ache in his chest was possible. He had felt all kinds of pain, emotional and physical, but nothing like this. Overwhelming concern, mixed with anxiety and grief. The kind of hurt that only manifested when someone you cared so deeply for was in pain right in front of your eyes._

_“Because I knew you would worry.”_

_“No shit! Because it’s dangerous!” Iwaizumi shouted. Shimizu’s expression didn’t change at his outburst, and Iwaziumi’s bottom lip wobbled like a child’s. “Please don’t do this anymore, Kiyoko, I can’t ever see you like this again.”_

_“I have to keep doing this.”_

_“Why?”_

_Shimizu smiled again, even sadder than before. “At this point, it’s more dangerous to stop.”_

____

Oikawa falls asleep briefly after finishing his milkshake, and even though it's dark, Iwaizumi can tell that there’s color to his face that wasn’t there before their meal. When was the last time Oikawa had eaten? 

Iwaizumi tries not to think about it. 

They’re in the middle of absolute nowhere, and the scenery stays the same for hours. There’s nothing for Iwaizumi to look at or listen for to keep himself awake, and coupled with Oikawa’s soft, even breaths, he has to catch himself from dozing off multiple times. 

He’s startled awake though, when Oikawa starts to whine in his sleep. 

Iwaizumi figures it’s just a dream, and ignores it until he hears Oikawa cry, too. Tears start to stream down his face, and the noises he makes are so pitiful that Iwaizumi’s heart aches, unwittingly. 

“Oikawa,” he says, trying to wake him. Oikawa whimpers again and starts to shake, and Iwaizumi panics. He pulls the car over, turns on one of the interior lights, and grabs Oikawa’s shoulder. “Wake up!” 

Oikawa’s eyes snap open and he flinches away from Iwaizumi so violently that Iwaizumi rips his hand away like it’d been burned. Guilt tears through him. “Oikawa, are you alright?” 

He doesn’t answer, his breath coming out in wheezes as tears keep running out of his eyes. Iwaizumi is afraid to touch him again, but he isn’t sure how else to pull him out of wherever his mind is. Oikawa squeezes his eyes shut and curls in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Please, please don’t hurt me.” 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Oikawa, I promise I won’t. Will you please calm down?” Iwaizumi’s heart is pounding out of his chest, but he swallows down the bile rising in his throat and tries to talk Oikawa down. “You’re fine, you’re safe here.” He’s not quite sure what he’s saying, but words are coming out of his mouth. 

After a few moments, when Oikawa finally opens his eyes and looks at Iwaizumi, it's like he’s surprised to see him. Like he was expecting someone else. “Oh, it’s you.” 

“Who else would it be?” 

“Nobody.” Oikawa tears his eyes away again and hugs his knees closer to his chest. “Why are we stopped?” 

“You were crying in your sleep, I wasn’t just going to ignore you.” 

“Why not?” 

Iwaizumi’s brow furrows. “I was worried.” 

Oikawa gulps, and if Iwaizumi isn’t mistaken, his eyes are shiny with moisture that wasn’t just residual from his crying a moment ago. “Can we keep going now?” 

Iwaizumi studies him for a moment, unsure how to proceed. If he knew Oikawa better, maybe he would insist that Oikawa tell him what was wrong, or what he was dreaming about. But when he thinks about the horror that swirled in Oikawa’s eyes when he woke up, or whatever fear caused him to tremble so violently, he decides not to ask. Partly because it wasn’t his business, but mostly because he didn’t want Oikawa to have to think about it again. 

“Yeah, lets go.” 

Iwaizumi is wide awake for the rest of the night. 

_____

“So, where are you from originally?” Iwaizumi asks a little while after Oikawa wakes up. Neither of them had spoken since Iwaizumi woke Oikawa up from his dream the previous night, and he figures he should get to know him better. Iwaizumi doesn’t foresee them splitting up anytime soon, and he surmises that Oikawa feels the same. 

“The east coast.” 

“Oh, how did you end up out west?” 

Oikawa gulps, visibly uncomfortable. “I ended up there when I was a teenager,” he says, the tone of his voice discouraging Iwaizumi from prying. 

“I grew up out west, this will be my first time leaving and seeing the rest of the country.” 

“Why are you leaving?” Oikawa asks. It’s a loaded question, and they both know it. Iwaizumi glances at him and sees that Oikawa is looking at him with those round, milk chocolate eyes. It’s a bit unnerving. 

“It wasn’t safe for me to be there, anymore,” Iwaizumi answers. It’s a gross understatement. “Why are _you_ leaving?” 

Oikawa’s brown eyes are back to staring out the window, and there’s a faraway look on his face. Iwaizumi belatedly realizes that it may not have been a good idea to ask. “Escaping is probably a better term, for what I’m trying to do.” 

The statement makes Iwaizumi uncomfortable and he isn’t quite sure what to say, so he doesn’t acknowledge it. “We’ll probably need to stop somewhere tonight. I’ve been awake for basically forty-eight hours, and I need sleep.” 

“Just one night?” 

It’s a good question. Iwaizumi figures that they’ve driven long enough that he doesn’t have to be worried about someone finding him, and it might be nice to recuperate for a little while. He feels like he’s barely eaten or slept in weeks, even though it's only been a couple days. “Maybe a couple nights. Is that a problem?” 

Oikawa bites at his cuticle again, just like he did at the diner. “Um… I don’t know. There might be someone trying to find me.” 

“That’s fine. I mean, it's not fine, but nothing is going to happen to you if I’m here,” Iwaizumi says. Only after the words come out of his mouth does he realize how protective they sounded. Hoping he hasn’t overstepped any boundaries, he looks at Oikawa to gauge his reaction. What he doesn’t expect is to see a barely-there smile on Oikawa’s face, one that makes Iwaizumi’s heart flutter in his chest. Uncomfortable at the sensation, he changes the subject. “Um, I need to stop at a store or something too. I don’t have a lot of clothes on me, or whatever. Do you need anything?”

“I don’t have any money.” 

“I have money. If you need something I can get it for you,” Iwaizumi says. 

“You already bought me food yesterday,” Oikawa says in a small voice, frowning. “You don’t have to spend your money on me.” 

“It’s fine if you need something,” Iwaizumi huffs. “I can get it for you, it’s not a problem.” 

Iwaizumi’s heart tightens when he sees another tiny smile spread across Oikawa’s face. 

____

Iwaizumi takes some cash out of the backpack in the trunk and the two of them go to a nearby big-box store. Iwaizumi grabs some toiletries--enough for both of them--and two burner cell phones. He figures that if he and Oikawa are sticking together for any period of time, they should have some way to contact each other in case they get separated. 

After some prying, he finds out that the only clothes Oikawa has are the dingy t-shirt and shorts that he’s wearing, so Iwaizumi insists that he buy something that isn’t about to fall apart. Oikawa struggles to pick anything out and Iwaizumi doesn’t have the patience to fret over it, so he grabs a few basic pieces and drags Oikawa back out to the car. 

When he sits back down in the passenger seat, he realizes that he bought clothes for Oikawa in his own size, which would almost certainly be too big on him. “Sorry, I didn’t even ask what size to buy you. Hopefully the stuff isn’t _too_ big on you.” 

“Oh, that’s okay. Thanks for buying it at all.” 

“It’s no problem,” Iwaizumi says, scratching at the back of his neck. It’s one of his nervous habits, but he isn’t sure why he’s nervous in the first place. “It looks like you could use some more weight on you anyway, so maybe they’ll fit better sometime soon.” 

Iwaizumi quickly realizes that he shouldn’t have said anything when he sees Oikawa gulp, uneasy, and draw a knee to his chest. “Yeah, maybe.” 

Iwaizumi clears his throat. “I’ll try and find a motel or something nearby, if that’s okay with you.” 

“That’s fine.” 

Iwaizumi finds them a room at a cheap, run-down motel. It’s not the greatest, but at least there are two beds and a bathroom, which should be all they need. It’s already pretty late by the time that they end up checking in, and all Iwaizumi wants to do is eat, shower, and sleep. 

“I’m going to shower first,” he says, setting his backpack on the bed closer to the window. “Are you hungry?” 

Oikawa sets his bags of clothes from the store down on the ground and sits gingerly on the other bed. “I could eat.” 

“Cool, do you mind ordering something for delivery? If you go to the front desk they probably have take out menus,” Iwaizumi asks, wasting no time in undressing for the shower. He pulls his shirt over his head and throws it on the floor half-hazardly. “Anything you want to order is fine, I’m not picky.” 

Oikawa is still on the bed but he’s staring wide-eyed at Iwaizumi, shell-shocked. His face is bright red, even in the dim light of the motel room, and his lips are parted slightly with short, uneasy breaths. Iwaizumi wonders if he’s uncomfortable with going down to the front desk by himself. 

“Is that okay? If you’d rather me order something I can go right now…” 

Oikawa snaps out of whatever was swirling around in his head. “Oh, no, I think I can do that.” 

“Great, well I’m going to shower then. I shouldn’t be too long.” 

It's unbelievable how good it feels for Iwaizumi to scrub three or so days’ worth of grime off of his neglected skin. Sitting in a car for so many hours at a time, sweating in the unbearable desert heat, sure did a number on him and his body. Iwaizumi can feel the tension melting off of him as the steaming water pours over him, clearing his mind. As long as he eats and sleeps after this, he’ll be good as new. 

As soon as all of the dirt and stress is rinsed off of Iwaizumi, he turns the water off and wraps a towel around his waist. He curses under his breath when he sees that he forgot to bring clean clothes into the bathroom, so he cracks the door open and calls for Oikawa. 

“Oikawa, could you bring me a change of clothes? I forgot to bring one in here.” 

There’s no answer. He opens the door a little further and sees that Oikawa isn’t in the room. Dread starts to boil in his gut. 

Oikawa should have been back from the front desk by now, and there’s a phone in the room so it's not like he would need to go look for a phone to borrow to call for the delivery. The room looks normal, nothing is out of place, but Iwaizumi scolds himself for leaving Oikawa by himself. He pulls on pants and starts pacing. It's unlikely that Oikawa made a run for it, not with how desperate he is to get away from whatever he’s running from. Unless he thinks Iwaizumi is a bigger threat than whatever that--

The door opens, and Iwaizumi’s heart stops--until he sees that it's just Oikawa’s frail form slinking in. He looks surprised when he sees that Iwaizumi is shirtless. 

“Where did you go?” Oikawa flinches at the gruffness of Iwaizumi’s voice, and guilt floods him yet again. “Sorry, I was just worried when I saw that you weren’t here.” 

“I went to borrow the phone at the front desk.” 

“Oh. What happened to the phone you got at the store earlier?” 

Oikawa bites his lip, nervously, and Iwaizumi finds that he can’t take his eyes off of Oikawa’s mouth. “It’s dead and I don’t have a charger.” 

Oh, right. Iwaizumi had only gotten one charger at the store. “You could have grabbed mine from my bag.” 

He looks intensely uncomfortable at the suggestion, shifting his weight between his feet. He crosses his arms across his chest and balls his hands up into fists. Iwaizumi wonders what he’s so anxious for. 

“Look,” Iwaizumi says, “you don’t have to be afraid of me, or whatever. I’m not sure why you’re so nervous, but I’m not going to do anything to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Oikawa gulps and nods his head, his eyes not-so-subtly tracing the muscles of Iwaizumi’s torso. Not that Iwaizumi notices, though. 

“What did you order for dinner?” 

“Chinese,” Oikawa says. “Hopefully that’s okay, I haven’t had it in so long and it sounded so good, so I just figured that--” 

“That’s perfect,” Iwaizumi cuts Oikawa off, not needing to hear him scramble to justify himself. “Chinese is perfect. The shower is free, if you want to use it.” 

Oikawa slips into the bathroom without a word and Iwaizumi dries himself off, enjoying the way the towel feels scratching against his scalp. He throws on clean clothes and plops himself on one of the beds, unsure what to do while he waits for the food to be delivered. 

____

_Iwaizumi tried, so hard, to keep himself from begging that Shimizu quit her job. Now that he knew the truth, she didn’t try and hide it anymore. She would come home from work dressed for the job, and every night the light in her eyes faded a little bit more._

_Although he couldn’t convince her to stop, he did convince her to share with him where she worked--information that he was beyond grateful to have on one particular night when Shimizu didn’t come home from work._

_Normally Shimizu would text him around one or two in the morning, telling him that she was coming home. He would keep his phone on ringer so that the texts would wake him up._

_So, when he woke up at four one morning on his own, with no text from Shimizu, he panicked._

_Searching for where she worked took Iwaizumi to a place he would not have expected. While he hadn’t had the most peachy of lives, he had luckily never been involved in crime or the more unsavory aspects of society. So, when he found out Shimizu worked as a prostitute, he was unsure what her place of work actually looked like._

_He never expected to find himself at the headquarters of one of the city’s most powerful business conglomerates--Shiratorizawa Corporation. It was too early for the actual building to be open, and Iwaizumi had no clue where to look to find Shimizu. The streets were eerily quiet--Iwaizumi wasn’t sure he had ever been out at that hour._

_A horrifyingly familiar scream distracted him from the unsettling silence._

_The noise came from an alley next to the massive skyscraper and Iwaizumi sprinted towards the sound without a second thought. The sight he encountered was one he would never forget._

_A tall man with messy ginger hair was holding Shimizu up against the brick wall of the building with one hand around her neck and another holding a gun to her chest. Shimizu’s hands were wrapped around the wrist pinning her against the wall, nails digging into the man’s skin. There was a dented door to the right of them, slightly ajar._

_Objectively, the man wasn’t all that intimidating. Despite him being taller than Iwaizumi, he was considerably slimmer. If Iwaizumi wanted he could probably take him down, but his feet were glued to the ground in fear. The man was growling something at Shimizu but Iwaizumi couldn’t hear a thing. The only sound he could hear was the blood rushing angrily through his veins, ears ringing with shock and rage._

_Without hesitation, Iwaizumi shouted. “Let go of her!”_

_Shimizu turned her head to the side, as best as she could given the situation, and her eyes went wide when she saw who was sprinting towards her._

_“Who the fuck are you?” The man snarled, not letting go of Shimizu._

_“I’m her brother,” Iwaizumi answered, fists clenched at his sides. Not her biological brother, of course, but it was the closest word to describe their relationship. “Let go of her.”_

_“Hajime,” Shimizu wheezed, flinching when the man tightened his grip around her throat. “You shouldn’t be here.”_

_“And what if I don’t?” the man laughed, jabbing the gun harder at her stomach. “What are you going to do?”_

_“I’ll-- I’ll kill you.”_

_“You’ll kill me? Maybe I’d believe you if you weren’t shaking like a fucking child,” he said, clicking the safety off on the gun._

_“Kawanishi, please don’t do this,” Shimizu begged. “Please don’t hurt me.”_

_Iwaizumi was too shocked to move._

_“I’m the most profitable girl here, Kawanishi, and Tendou wouldn’t be happy if you killed me.”_

_Kawanishi stared at her for a moment, his gaze steely. After an excruciating moment, he released his grip on Shimizu’s neck. She crumpled to the ground, bracing herself with her hands on the concrete. Kawanishi kicked her in the gut and Iwaizumi was about to lunge at him until he saw Shimizu’s expression, her gaze begging him not to do anything rash._

_“Don’t let this shit happen again,” Kawanishi spat, kicking her once more and leaving through the door next to them. Iwaizumi raced towards her, gathering her up into his arms and hoping she didn’t feel the tears spilling out of his eyes._

_“I’m fine, Hajime,” she said, “I’m okay.”_

_“You’re not okay,” Iwaizumi sobbed, clutching desperately at her shoulders, like if he didn’t hold on tight enough she would disappear. “Some guy just had a gun to you, how can you say that you’re okay?”_

_Shimizu pushed him back gently and wiped away the wetness on her cheeks. “Because I have to be.”_

____

Iwaizumi is snapped out of his thoughts when there’s a knock on the door. His immediate reaction is to panic, that he’s been found, but then he realizes it's probably just the food delivery. He looks through the peephole anyway, though, just to be sure. 

He pays the pimply teenage delivery driver and looks through what Oikawa ordered, pleasantly surprised when he sees that there are two large orders of sweet and sour chicken and fried rice--Iwaizumi’s favorite. It smells divine, and he’s unable to wait for Oikawa to start eating. 

Iwaizumi gets halfway through a heaping container of chicken when he realizes that Oikawa has been in the shower for an alarmingly long amount of time. Worry floods him--did he slip and fall? Pass out? Is he okay? 

Right as his mind starts to spiral the shower shuts off and after a moment Oikawa opens the door, steam escaping from the tiny bathroom, and _oh_. 

Oikawa’s wet hair is pushed back away from his face, water droplets falling down along the contours of his neck. His cheeks are pink from the hot shower and his expression is relaxed, eyelids heavy. The v-neck t-shirt that he put on is clearly too big, hanging loose off of his shoulders and exposing the cut of his collarbone. He looks clean and as healthy as Iwaizumi has ever seen him, but most of all he looks _beautiful_. 

Iwaizumi has to consciously tear his eyes away from Oikawa as he sits on the other bed with a contented sigh and grabs one of the take-out containers and a fork from the nightstand. He starts to eat and Iwaizumi tries not to stare at the way his eyelashes flutter when he tastes the food and hums. 

“How are you feeling?” Iwaizumi asks. It’s getting late and they’ll probably be falling asleep soon. Iwaizumi doesn’t want Oikawa to have another bad dream like he did earlier in the car. 

Oikawa takes another bite of food and swallows. “I’m okay, the shower was nice. I didn’t realize I was so hungry,” he says, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Thank you for getting this food.” 

“Of course,” Iwaizumi whispers, mostly to himself. He busies himself with the rest of his food and throws away the empty containers when he’s finished. He looks over at Oikawa and finds that he’s fallen asleep sitting up with a half-eaten take-out box in front of him. It’s oddly endearing.

Luckily, the motel room has a mini-fridge, so he puts Oikawa’s leftovers inside so that he can finish them tomorrow. Knowing that he’ll be hurting tomorrow if he keeps sleeping the way he is, Iwaizumi gently shakes Oikawa’s shoulder to wake him up. As soon as he touches Oikawa, though, he pulls his hand away like he was burned. He’s immediately regretful--Oikawa winces whenever someone so much as moves--how could Iwaizumi be so careless to touch him without permission? 

He prays that Oikawa doesn’t startle, and luckily he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes open slowly, recognition flashing in his eyes when he sees that it's Iwaizumi waking him up. 

“You should lay down, Oikawa. If you sleep like that your back will probably hurt tomorrow.” 

Oikawa whines a little and unwittingly fists his hand in Iwaizumi’s shirt and pulls him closer. His eyes flutter shut again and Iwaizumi’s heart nearly beats out of his chest. Oikawa’s face is so fucking pretty that it’s stupid, but Iwaizumi is even more stupid for not realizing it until a few moments ago. 

Gritting his teeth, Iwaizumi removes Oikawa’s hand from his shirt and coaxes him onto his back. Iwaizumi can’t get him under the covers but is satisfied enough that he’s laying down properly. Afraid he’ll get cold, he grabs the comforter off of his own bed and drapes it over Oikawa. 

He lays down in the other bed to sleep and he’s shivering, but for whatever reason he doesn’t mind.


	3. Retrograde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: firearm use, non-graphic violence

_  
“Why did you come to look for me, Hajime? They know who you are now!” Shimizu shouted once they got home. She was wrapped up in Iwaizumi’s jacket, because giving it to her was the only thing Iwaizumi could think to do when he saw her collapsed in the alley._

_“I was worried! Why wouldn’t I come look for you?” Iwaizumi said. “Why would you tell me where you worked if you didn’t want me to look for you if you didn’t come home?”_

_“I never thought you would need to use it,” Shimizu explained. Iwaizumi looked at her, helpless and pleading._

_“I know you said you can’t quit this, but please tell me what just fucking happened, Kiyoko.”_

_“I started as a prostitute a few years ago. It was hard to make ends meet with only the cashier job, and a friend of mine told me he knew a side job for me to make extra money. On the outside, Shiratorizawa Corporation conducts legitimate business and has a legitimate CEO. The same company is a front for a massive crime ring, but very few people know the identity of the person in charge. Most of us just know him as the Eagle.”_

_“When I found out that the side job was prostitution, of course I wanted to back out. I needed the money so bad, though, so I tried it out. I was miserable at first, but eventually I got used to it and the pay was too good to pass up. Eventually, I started becoming... popular among clients and became the prostitute bringing in the most money, so I gained some status within the ring. After that, I started hearing more and more about the organization, and now I know so much that if I tried to get out, I would almost certainly be killed.”_

_“The guy just now, Kawanishi, manages the prostitution part of the Shiratorizawa ring, and tonight a client asked me to do something I didn’t want to do. I refused and he got mad, and then you showed up.”_

_Iwaizumi gulped, feeling tears burning behind his eyes. “I want to help you. I’ll do anything.”_

_“No, Hajime--you’re in danger now just for showing your face. I’ve been refusing things from clients a lot lately, and I’m already on thin ice with Kawanishi and the rest of them. If you try and do something to help, it's only going to make it worse.”_

_“That’s bullshit, Kiyoko,” Iwaizumi said, angry. “You’ve been protecting me for years, you took me in after I got thrown onto the street and showed me love when I needed it most. Please let me help you, now.” There was an idea in his mind that he was almost too afraid to voice. “If I start working for them, too, I would be able to protect you.”_

_Resigned, Kiyoko lowered her chin. She didn’t argue.  
_

_____

Iwaizumi awakes to the sound of the bathroom sink. He turns onto his side and sees that Oikawa’s bed is empty. When he realizes that his blanket is draped over himself instead of crumpled up on Oikawa’s bed, his heart twists painful and confusing in his chest. 

He doesn’t feel like getting up, not when he’s still feeling so exhausted. The mental strain of the past few days, of his whole fucking _life_ , is starting to catch up to him. Iwaizumi rolls onto his stomach and groans into the pillow, wondering how he’s supposed to muster the energy to go on with his day. Not that he had anything to do, other than run away from his problems. He wonders if he and Oikawa should stay another night here or get back on the road. 

The bathroom door opens and Oikawa is holding a mass of something Iwaizumi can’t quite make out. 

“What are you doing?” Iwaizumi asks. Oikawa startles so badly that he drops what he’s holding, which Iwaizumi learns is a pile of wet clothes based on the way they plop to the ground. “Sorry.” 

“You scared me,” Oikawa says, picking up the clothes that he dropped. “I washed our clothes in the sink.” 

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. Thanks.” 

Oikawa gives him an awkward half-smile in lieu of a reply and starts to lay the wet clothes out to dry wherever there’s space. Iwaizumi reaches for his phone to check for messages--a habit from the old days. Nobody has his burner phone number and it's not like he ever got messages on his previous phone either. At least not in recent memory. 

Regretfully, the motel room doesn’t have a coffee maker, which Iwaizumi so desperately needs. Luckily he noticed a cafe nearby when they were driving in, so he laces up his shoes and throws on a fresh shirt to go grab some coffee. “I’m going to get coffee. Do you want anything?” 

Oikawa bites his lip and opens his mouth briefly before closing it again, like he’s debating if he should say what’s on his mind.

“Just spit it out,” Iwaizumi sighs, wondering how long Oikawa is going to be this skittish. 

“A frappuccino.” 

“A frappuccino?” 

“If they have it,” Oikawa says, twiddling his thumbs. _Cute,_ Iwaizumi thinks. 

“First a milkshake and now a frappuccino. You must like sweet things.” Iwaizumi says, grabbing some cash from his backpack and stuffing it in his pocket. Oikawa looks away but doesn’t say anything, his bottom lip pursed in what must be a pout. “I should only be a few minutes. Is there any particular flavor you want?” 

Oikawa rocks back on his heels. “Caramel.” 

Iwaizumi grunts in reply and leaves Oikawa at the motel to walk to the cafe. It’s only a little bit down the road, but he’s still sweating profusely by the time he gets inside. He and Oikawa had been driving erratically, making random twists and turns, but for some reason they’re still not out of the blazing desert heat. 

A wind chime sounds with the opening door and Iwaizumi walks up to the counter, studying the menu. The inside of the shop is decorated nicely, an interesting contrast to the bleak surroundings and dingy motel. Luckily, they sell the caramel frappuccino that Oikawa wants, and Iwaizumi has no trouble getting his preferred black coffee as well. 

As he walks out, he makes eye contact with the only other patron at the establishment. It’s a smaller man with angular, blunt bangs and striking brown eyes. The man looks closely at him as he sips his drink, and Iwaizumi feels uncomfortable under his arresting stare. It’s like the air in the cafe shifts when they look at each other and adrenaline shoots up Iwaizumi’s spine, making the hair on the back of his neck standup. He needs to get out of there, fast. 

Iwaizumi’s intuition is telling him to sprint back to the motel, grab Oikawa and their belongings, and drive away as quickly as possible. He doesn’t want to make a scene, though, so he takes controlled yet brisk steps towards the motel, and tries to come up with a plan in his head. 

There’s very little chance that they can drive away without the man in the cafe seeing them and inevitably getting the car’s license plate, especially if he takes any extra time at the motel getting his stuff together. It would be faster to just get in the car now, but that would mean leaving behind his stuff at the hotel. 

And leaving behind Oikawa.

Iwaizumi hates himself for even thinking of it. 

Every second that passes is a second closer to his own demise, so he dials Oikawa’s number in his phone. 

_”Hello?”_

“Oikawa, I need you to pack up all of our stuff, now. Once you’re done I need you to take the gun from my bag and hide in the bathroom.” 

_“What? Why? What’s happening?”_ Oikawa says, panic evident in his voice.

“I’ll explain later, I promise. Right now, please do what I told you,” Iwaizumi answers, and hangs up before Oikawa can ask any more questions. 

Right as he gets to the motel room and reaches for the doorknob, Iwaizumi feels the unmistakable jab of a gun in his back and the breath of another person against his neck. “Open the door and walk in slowly. If you make any sudden movements I’ll shoot.” 

____

_  
Shimizu and Iwaizumi sat on a leather couch in the basement of Shiratorizawa Corporation in a large, dark office. Kawanishi stood in the corner of the room with his arms crossed, clearly displeased by the two in front of him. There’s a large, mahogany desk in the room with a heavy glass ashtray in the center. The heavy door behind them creaked open and Iwaizumi felt an unnerving presence enter the room._

_A tall, lanky man with a shock of red hair stalked in. “It's rare that you call me in for something, Kawanishi,” he said in a singsong voice. Kawanishi nodded towards Iwaizumi and Shimizu, and when the red-haired man noticed them he gasped._

_“Kiyoko, my darling,” he purred, kneeling in front of Shimizu. She’s rigid next to him and Iwaizumi could feel the discomfort radiating off of her. The man trailed a long finger up the column of her throat and Shimizu tilted her chin up, her eyes squeezed shut. Iwaizumi wanted to swat his creepy hand away. “How good it is to see you.”_

_“Tendou,” she said, begrudgingly acknowledging him. He gave her a cheshire-cat smile and sat on the chair behind the massive desk. He put his feet on the desk and Kawanishi rolled his eyes._

_“Who do we have here?”_

_“This is my brother, Hajime Iwaizumi,” Shimizu said, placing her hand over Iwaizumi’s on the leather couch. “He’s interested in working for Shiratorizawa.”_

_Kawanishi cackled, leaning against the wall. “Is that so? That’s hard to believe, considering he threatened to kill me the other day.”_

_“I also would like to kill you, Kawanishi, but unfortunately the Eagle specifically told me not to,” Tendou says. He opens a drawer in the desk and places an antique-looking razor on the wood, the kind that a barber would use to shave someone’s beard. “You see, Hajime, I have a bad habit of slitting people’s throats.”_

_When Iwaizumi says nothing, Tendou chuckles. “So, while I appreciate your sentiment of wanting to kill Kawanishi, unfortunately I cannot let that happen. Why would you like to work for us lovely people at Shiratorizawa?”_

_Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “I need the money,” he lied, “and Shimizu told me that there’s money to be made here.”_

_“You know, Hajime, there’s more to it than just money. I’ve seen many come through here looking to make money, and they very quickly burn out. Shiratorizawa isn’t for everyone, and it’s a lot easier to work here if you can tolerate some of the more… unsavory aspects of society. Do you think I became the number two boss because I liked the money? Because I didn’t. I became the number two boss because my_ habit _is quite useful for the Eagle.”_

_“The money is nice, though, I won’t lie to you. I can get just about anything, or anyone I want. Although, I can’t seem to get Miss Shimizu here to accept my advances.”_

_Rage burned hot in Iwaizumi’s gut, but he didn’t dare speak._

_Tendou picked up the razor off the desk and unsheathed it, running his fingers along the blade. “So, what do you think, Hajime? Do you have something that could be useful for Shiratorizawa?”_

_The truthful answer was that no, he didn’t. It’s not like he has had an easy life by any means, but he very luckily never had to turn to less-than-ideal means to get by. Now that he sat there in front of one of the most unsettling human beings he had ever met, it felt like he skated by in life. Especially because Shimizu, the only person on the planet who loved him unconditionally, was forced to work a dangerous job just so that he could live without worries._

_Now, the rose-colored glasses were off, and he was determined to keep the person he loved safe, even if that meant putting himself in danger. So he lied._

_“I’m willing to do anything you need. That should be useful enough.”_

_Tendou sat quietly for a moment, sheathing and unsheathing the razor with a strange sort of reverence. It made Iwaizumi nervous, seeing him play with something so deadly. “Hmm, if you say so, Hajime. And anyway, if the lovely Kiyoko speaks so highly of you, you can’t be all bad. I think I’ll start you out with Reon, with your mean face you might be useful for extortion.”_

_Tendou ran his fingertip along the blade, dangerously close to the sharp edge. Iwaizumi barely held in a gasp when Tendou cut his skin._

_“Oops, I guess I should put this away,” he laughed, closing the blade and putting it back in the drawer. Tendou held his hand up and watched his blood drip down his palm and onto the desk, drawing swirls in the scarlet puddle with his other hand. Iwaizumi’s stomach turned._

_A text notification cut the eerie silence of the room. Kawanishi pulled a phone out of his pocket and frowned at the received message. “Boss wants to see you, Tendou.”_

_Tendou scooted away from his desk, and stood to his full height. “I guess it’s time for me to go,” he said, slinking towards the door. He stopped suddenly in front of Iwaizumi and cupped his hand against his cheek. Iwaizumi hoped he couldn’t feel him trembling. “My dear Hajime, do you mind cleaning up my mess? You said you would do anything we needed.”_

_He left the room without waiting for an answer._

_Iwaizumi placed his palm on his face where Tendou touched him, and when he pulled it away, there was sticky, crimson blood on his hand._

____

Iwaizumi does as he’s told, and the man follows him inside and shuts the door. A rough hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder turns him around and pushes him against the wall. Iwaizumi scans the room: the bathroom light is off and the door is slightly ajar. He’s relieved that Oikawa followed his directions.The man shoves the gun under his chin. “Who are you?” Iwaizumi asks, voice trembling.

“Kenjirou Shirabu. Did you really think you could get away like this, Iwaizumi? You know we have eyes all over the country,” the man says. Iwaizumi vaguely remembers the name Shirabu being mentioned by a few others within the ring. “How much of a fucking coward do you have to be to run away?” 

“I thought Shiratorizawa takes care of its own,” Iwaizumi spits, voice low. “Clearly that isn’t true anymore.” 

“Shiratorizawa doesn’t take care of fucking traitors,” Shirabu says, pushing the gun up harder against Iwaizumi’s chin. 

“Are you going to kill me, Shirabu?”

“I’m going to ask you some questions, and _then_ I’m going to kill you. You couldn’t have done what you did without some help from the inside. Who else is a piece of shit traitor, like you?” 

Behind Shirabu, Iwaizumi sees the bathroom door open slightly, silent, and his heart drops. Oikawa had _better_ not come outside. If Shirabu noticed him, he would either kill him or take him hostage--neither of which were ideal. Iwaizumi would rather deal with this by himself. 

“Answer me!” Shirabu shouts, unlocking the safety. 

After a tense moment, Iwaizumi hears the undeniable squeak of a door opening and---

When Shirabu whips his head around to look at the source of the noise, Iwaizumi headbutts him as hard as he can. Shirabu crumples to the ground, knocked out cold, and he breathes a sigh of relief despite the pain. Oikawa peeks his head out of the bathroom.

“Is he out?” he whispers, hands visibly shaking as they wrap around the edge of the door. 

“Yeah, we need to go now,” Iwaizumi says, head throbbing violently. Oikawa has their bags all ready to go and they walk to the car, as casually as they can, leaving their coffee forgotten at the motel. Iwaizumi’s heart is beating as they throw their stuff in the trunk and drive off, well over the speed limit. 

“Thank god you distracted him like that,” Iwaizumi breathes, after his nerves finally calm down. Oikawa sits with his knees to his chest and curls in on himself further when Iwaizumi speaks, but his hands don’t shake. “Thank you, Oikawa. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t.” 

“What just happened? I couldn’t really hear what you were saying from the bathroom.” 

“Um, well the reason I left the city is because I made some enemies,” Iwaizumi says. It’s not a lie, but it's not the whole truth. “The guy at the motel just now was one of them.” 

Oikawa doesn’t answer, but out of the corner of his eye, Iwaizumi sees him put his feet back on the floor and fish the glock out of his pocket and put it in the glovebox.

Iwaizumi feels antsy, now that he’s shared that with Oikawa. He wants some kind of reciprocity. “You said earlier that someone might be coming after you.” 

“Yeah.” 

“If we’re going to stick together, I’d like to know what you meant by that.” 

“I tried to break-up with someone but it didn’t end well, so I ran away. I can only imagine that he isn’t happy about that, so he might be trying to find me,” Oikawa sighs. He sounds strangely calm as he speaks. 

“He would try and come after you even though you broke up with him?” Iwaizumi asks. “Sounds like a piece of shit.” 

Oikawa huffs out a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah, I guess.”

_____

_Reon Ohira was a surprisingly kind and gentle person for somebody who had been in a crime ring for years and physically threatened people for a living. Iwaizumi had been told by most everyone growing up that he had perpetual frown and combined with his naturally muscular physique, extortion came easily to him._

_Shiratorizawa had a fleet of different cars available for Iwaizumi and Ohira to take to jobs, so that they couldn’t be easily recognized or tracked. Ohira drove them everywhere at first, just to get Iwaizumi acclimated. He still felt intensely wrong for participating in such activities, but at least the people he was sent to threaten weren’t regular, innocent people. Most of the targets were clients who hurt or didn’t pay their prostitutes or drug traffickers that owed money to Shiratorizawa._

_Iwaizumi and Ohira were driving to a job one night a few weeks in, when their conversation turned into something that they hadn’t talked about before._

_“Tendou asked me how you were doing earlier today,” Ohira said, eyes still trained on the road. Iwaizumi was silent, knowing that Tendou essentially held his fate in the palm of his hand. “You don’t have to frown like that, Iwaizumi!” he laughed, “I told him you were doing just fine.”_

_Iwaizumi breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad I’m meeting your expectations.”_

_“Tendou also told me that you’re Kiyoko’s brother.”_

_“You know Kiyoko?”_

_“I do,” Ohira said. “Most of us know her, she has a decent amount of influence in the organization. Although some of that has to do with Tendou.”_

_Iwaizumi thought back to his first meeting with Tendou and how creepy he was towards Shimizu. Iwaizumi wasn’t blind--he knew that she was beautiful--but the way Tendou looked at her was a little off-putting. “What does that mean?”_

_Ohira frowned and shifted in his seat. “Tendou has had some kind of fascination with her since she first got here… he’s propositioned her but she’s turned him down multiple times--at least that’s what I’ve heard from Kawanishi. She has some leverage because of it, but in the end Tendou still has the most power out of everyone besides the Eagle.”_

_Iwaizumi’s mind jumped to the worst case scenario. “Has he…tried anything, with her?”_

_Recognition dawned on Ohira’s face. “Oh no no, Tendou is twisted but he wouldn’t do something like that, although he doesn’t always react well when he doesn’t get what he wants.”_

_“Part of the reason I got involved in all this was to protect her,” Iwaizumi admitted, more honest than he ever thought he would be. He felt lucky that Ohira seemed like a decent guy, all things considered._

_Ohira looked at him, pity evident in his eyes. “You’re a good brother, Iwaizumi,” he said, “and Kiyoko is a nice girl. She deserves better than this, honestly.”_

_Iwaizumi sighed, feeling helpless. “She really does.”_

_“Don’t worry too much, though, Iwaizumi. There’s no denying what we are, but at least Shiratorizawa takes care of its own.”_


	4. Sunspot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: mentions of death, homophobia, guns

Iwaizumi drives them straight east after they escape from the motel. He figures that getting as far away as possible from Shiratorizawa is the best bet. He can only imagine how far it’s influence reaches across the country, but the farther away they get, the better. 

The fact that Shirabu was working alone makes Iwaizumi feel a little bit better--at least Shiratorizawa didn’t have hoards of people working together throughout the country. 

The road they drive on eventually leaves the desert and enters the prairie, which is even more monotonous. Iwaizumi didn’t think it was possible for the drive to become even _more_ uninteresting. 

Eventually, to his great relief, they reach a decent sized city. After looking at flat farmland for so long, seeing a skyline full of tall buildings is a massive relief. It also makes him a little homesick, a little sentimental. 

“I think we should stop here for the night,” Iwaizumi says, taking an exit off the highway. Oikawa doesn’t argue but Iwaizumi can feel the anxiety radiating off of him. 

“How much money do you have?” Oikawa asks, plainly. It catches Iwaizumi off guard; he isn’t sure how to answer.

“Plenty.” 

“Enough for a different car?” 

“Why?” Iwaizumi says, furrowing his brow. 

“The guy from the motel most likely isn’t dead, and this car could give us away,” Oikawa answers.

“I don’t think he saw what car we drove away in, though.” 

“We left quickly but it was the middle of the day--there were plenty of people who could have seen us. The guy could ask any of them which car we drove.” 

Oikawa is right, and Iwaizumi scolds himself internally for not thinking of that. 

It strikes him as odd that Oikawa would think of something like that. That, or Iwaizumi is just very dense. He figures it's the latter, but decides to address it anyway. “Good idea, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” he laughs. “Have you staged a runaway before?”

It’s meant to be a joke, but Oikawa doesn’t laugh. “No.” 

There’s an uncomfortable, faraway look in his eyes and Iwaizumi feels stupid for asking him. “We can leave this car somewhere and I’ll pick up a beater from somewhere else in the city.”

The city they arrive in is laid out logically--the roads are arranged in a grid--but it's far from boring. There are bars and restaurants lining the streets with no shortage of people coming and going. The lights are bright even as the sun sets, and Iwaizumi feels jealousy curl in his gut as he watches the city-goers laugh and smile. How nice it would feel to be carefree, living life as a normal twenty-something year old. 

Instead, he’s stuck with an inevitable criminal record and an entire airplane’s worth of baggage. It's funny how one event can force someone's life into a downward smile. 

Oikawa mentions that he’s hungry, so Iwaizumi parks the car near one of the bustling restaurants. They should be fine as long as there are a lot of people around. The inside of the restaurant is extravagantly decorated; 

The restaurant is nice, nicer than any restaurant Iwaizumi had ever been to. 

They’re seated in the back corner of the dining room and the server leaves them with menus. Oikawa actually picks one up and looks at it, which Iwaizumi is strangely pleased about. “I’m not sure I’ve ever eaten somewhere this fancy.” 

“It's been awhile since I have,” Oikawa says. Iwaizumi doesn’t press, but he speaks anyway. “I would eat at places like this before I ended up on the west coast. My ex would take me to restaurants, too, at least for a little while.” 

Iwaizumi regards him carefully. His mouth is drawn in a firm line and his jaw is clenched tight. There’s a steely, almost angry look in his eyes that Iwaizumi hadn’t seen before, the most intense emotion on his face to date. Clearing his throat, Iwaizumi changes the subject. “What are you going to order?” 

Oikawa’s bottom lip juts out the _tiniest_ bit in a pout, and the rapid change in expression is jarring. He hums a little bit and looks up at Iwaizumi through those long, fluttery eyelashes, like a dog begging for food. 

“What?” Iwaizumi sighs, with faux exasperation. 

“I kinda want steak.” 

“Order, steak then.” 

Oikawa’s face lights up, a healthy pink flush in his cheeks. “Really?” 

“It’s not like I’m joking,” Iwaizumi says with a blush of his own. He lets his mind wander a bit, more than he probably should--not like he can help it with Oikawa sitting in front of him looking as pretty as he does. 

Growing up, Iwaizumi was well liked by his classmates and he saw himself getting older, finding a job, and getting married to someone special. He saw what his parents had and he ached for the same thing, ached for someone to hold and to love. Even now that he was separated from his parents, he still envied what they had between them despite his animosity towards them. 

There was something empty within him, a void that sucked in all of his emotions and spit them out bitter, no matter how pure and lovely they were at the start. His heart would twinge whenever he thought about love, uncomfortable in the same way as it felt when someone breathes in too cold of air. 

He wanted love, desperately, but he wasn’t sure that he deserved it. 

Iwaizumi and Oikawa give the waitress their orders and make small talk until the food comes, and Iwaizumi feels a weird sort of satisfaction watching Oikawa eat his steak so happily. His own meal doesn’t taste like much, although part of that could be attributed to his mood. He finishes it anyway, but still feels hungry once he’s done. “Do you want to order dessert, too?” 

Oikawa gives him a tiny smile. “That sounds good,” he says, and Iwaizumi feels pinned under his gaze. “Do you have a sweet tooth too?” 

“I did as a little kid,” Iwaizumi explains, unable to look Oikawa in the eye. “Not that my parents could afford to buy me sweets all that often.” 

Iwaizumi feels himself deflate a little--he didn’t mean to mention his parents. Oikawa frowns, probably picking up on the downturn in Iwaizumi’s mood. “Where are your parents now?” 

“I’m not sure… I haven’t seen them since I was in high school.” 

“Why?”

Iwaizumi ignores the pressure behind his eyes that inevitably erupts whenever he’s forced to talk about this. “They kicked me out when I came out to them.” 

Oikawa rests his face in his hand, elbow propped against the table. He pushes the uneaten garnish around on his plate with his fork, and Iwaizumi watches him smear the leftover sauce around on the porcelain dish. He’s taken aback when Oikawa looks up at him, suddenly, his milk chocolate eyes looking intensely at Iwaizumi. 

“That wasn’t very nice of them,” he says, gaze fixed on Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi struggles to get past how pretty he looks, especially as shadows from the candlelight flicker on his face. As simple as Oikawa’s words are, they hit Iwaizumi hard, and he tries not to let unchecked emotion well up in his eyes. 

“You’re right, it wasn’t.” 

____  
 _  
Iwaizumi quite often finished work earlier than Shimizu, but he always waited for her to get done so that they could walk home together. He would stand in the same alley from the night when he first went searching for her, making it a point not to look at the spot on the concrete where she crumpled to the ground._

_Shimizu would smile at him every time she walked out of that heavy metal door, except for the times when Kawanishi would follow her out, complaining about something that happened during the night. Kawanishi would scold her and it would make Iwaizumi’s blood boil, but at least he didn’t touch her. Whenever it looked like he was squaring up to hit her, Iwaizumi would approach or at least clear his throat, and Kawanishi would roll his eyes before stomping off._

_He knew that it wasn’t him actually protecting her, that in the end she could protect herself, but at least he could rest easier at night. Every night that Shimizu came through that door, safe and sound, it was like a weight lifted off his shoulders._

_Sometimes Shimizu would indulge him and let him give her a piggyback ride home. It made him ache for a childhood he never had._

_When neither of them could sleep they would sit on the floor of Shimizu’s apartment and talk._

_“Do you think that this is how it's always going to be?” Iwaizumi asked, knowing that the question betrayed how naive he was._

_“What do you mean, Hajime?”_

_“Like, are we going to be doing this forever? Working like this, getting home late,” he sighs. “Are we ever going to have a normal life?”_

_Shimizu gave him a gentle smile. It was genuine, full of love. “What is a normal life, in your opinion?”_

_Iwaizumi considered the question carefully. It wasn’t like he had a normal childhood. He never had consistent stability but at least he knew love, until both were stripped away from him more violently than he could have ever imagined. He had no benchmark for a normal life as an adult, no way to understand what it truly meant._

_So he guessed._

_“Something peaceful, I guess. A steady job, or at least one that lets you sleep at night. Figuratively and literally. Maybe a family.”_

_Shimizu scooched over closer to him and placed a warm palm on his cheek. He closed his eyes and placed his hand on top of hers, much bigger but far weaker.  
“If that’s something that you want, Hajime, you’ll make it happen. I know it.” _

_“But what about you? Do you want something like that?”_

_“I do,” she said. “As a little girl I always dreamed about growing up, going to school, finding a job, maybe even getting married. It’s not like that dream has gone away. Neither of us have what we want right now, but we will. Eventually.”_

_As it stood, Iwaizumi couldn’t see how that could be true. Sure, he was doing better financially, but it's not like he could rest easy. He felt like a piece of shit, doing what he did. Someone like him didn’t deserve the life they wanted._

_Shimizu ran her other hand through Iwaizumi’s hair, affectionate, and Iwaizumi decided that he’d believe her. Just for the night.  
_  
______

Iwaizumi books them a hotel room, only for one night this time. It’s an older building, one that had been around for more than fifty years, and their room is decorated as such. The carpet is a deep, velvety burgundy color and the beds have black wrought iron frames with tall posts. There’s only one light--a stained glass lamp between their two beds--so the room is dimly lit, especially now that the sun is setting. There is a sliding door behind a beaded curtain that opens up onto a spacious balcony.

“Is it okay if I shower first?” Oikawa asks, digging through the bag of clothes that Iwaizumi bought for him. His voice is back to sounding timid, unlike how bold it sounded at the restaurant. Maybe it only seems that way in the quiet of the hotel room. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Oikawa shuts the bathroom door behind him and Iwaizumi is left alone. 

It suddenly sets in, the fact that right now he’s in limbo. 

Right now he’s sharing a hotel room in an unfamiliar city with someone who is essentially a stranger, driving a stolen car and spending stolen money. He has no way of knowing where he’ll be a week from now, a month from now, even a _year_ from now. He supposes, though, that a year ago he was feeling the same way. 

He’s overcome with hopelessness, which isn’t something he generally lets himself feel. When his parents kicked him out, he knew that it would be alright because Shimizu was there to take him in. Shimizu was there to make sure that he had food to eat and a roof over his head, but most importantly to make sure that he was loved. 

What did he have now? 

He didn’t have a home or anybody to consider a friend. He couldn’t think of a single person on the planet who actually loved him, or who thought that he was worth something. Instead, there was an entire horde of people who wanted him dead.

Iwaizumi was running solely on survival instinct at this point, and even that was starting to run out.

He must have been musing for a while, because he startles when Oikawa comes out of the bathroom. There’s an alarming amount of steam coming from the shower and Oikawa’s cheeks are bright red from the heat. “God Oikawa, how hot do you have the water when you shower?” 

Oikawa cowers like he’s been scolded. “Sorry, I just feel better when the water is really hot.” 

Iwaizumi frowns. “You don’t have to be sorry, I just wouldn’t want you to burn yourself by accident.” 

Oikawa won’t look at him and Iwaizumi sighs. He doesn’t think prying into Oikawa will be productive, so he grabs his own set of clothes and heads into the bathroom to shower. He starts sweating almost immediately from how humid it is, and he smears away some of the condensation on the mirror to look at himself. 

“God, I look awful,” Iwaizumi says. The circles under his eyes are darker than he’s ever seen them, a deep indigo underneath a layer of sallow skin. He’s always had a tan complexion and that hasn’t changed, but there is a grey tinge to his skin that gives aways how exhausted he is. His hair is longer than he likes it, unruly and sticking up in random places. Maybe he’ll get a haircut if they come across a barber shop. 

He turns on the faucet and sets the dial so that the water is a bit hotter than he usually likes it. It’s a degree away from too hot, but Iwaizumi feels like that’s exactly what he needs right now, a physical cleanse. 

The washcloth he brings into the shower with him is scratchy against Iwaizumi’s skin but he still scrubs at his skin roughly, as if the added pressure will slough off the worries weighing on his heart. 

“Where should we go next?” he murmurs to himself out loud as he reaches for the tiny shampoo bottle. Before they head anywhere, though, Iwaizumi needs to find them a different car. A newer car would be more reliable, and Iwaizumi wouldn’t have to worry as much about it breaking down, but it is very likely that they would have to ditch it in the near future. Any car is fine, as long as it can take them places, Iwaizumi figures. 

Rinsing the shampoo out of his hair feels nice, and Iwaizumi’s muscles relax as the suds drip out of his hair and down the drain. With one last deep breath he turns off the water and dries off. 

Iwaizumi throws on some shorts but doesn’t bother with a shirt, and steps back out into the room while he towel dries his hair.

Oikawa is nowhere to be found in the room, and a jolt of panic surges through Iwaizumi until he sees that the beaded curtain is pushed away and the sliding door is slightly open. 

He drops the towel in a pile on the ground and opens the door to the balcony. 

Oikawa stands there against the railing, facing out with his chin lifted. Tentatively, Iwaizumi leans on the railing next to him, arms crossed over the banister. Oikawa is staring past the neighboring buildings and up at the night sky. A gentle breeze ruffles his hair, still damp from the bath, and his skin has faded back to a normal color. 

Tearing his eyes away, Iwaizumi looks up as well, wondering what Oikawa was watching so intently. To him, it just looks like a regular sky.

“Even though it's still a city, it’s a lot easier to see the stars here,” Oikawa says with a wistful sigh. 

Iwaizumi frowns and squints, trying to see what Oikawa is talking about. He can make out a few stars, but not more than he could see back home--not that he’s ever looked all that close. “I guess so,” he says, “I can’t really see that much, though.” 

Oikawa exhales sharply through his nose, almost a laugh. “Maybe you need glasses, then, Iwaizumi.” 

Iwaizumi laughs out loud, and as the noise comes out of his mouth he realizes how long it's been since he’s done that. Oikawa looks at him, wide-eyed, and if Iwaizumi isn’t mistaken there’s a hint of blush on the tops of his cheekbones. 

There’s a peaceful silence between them for a moment and Iwaizumi watches traffic pass by on the street below them. The variety of people on the sidewalk going about their lives is strangely comforting. Despite all of the turmoil he feels, and how dangerous his situation is, there are still thousands, _millions_ of people who are living normally, unafraid. On one hand, it gives him hope for the future, that maybe one day he’ll be amongst them. On the other, it comforts him that even if he dies, life for everyone else will still go on--it's not like he has anyone he’d be leaving behind. 

Their hotel is on the corner of an intersection and Iwaizumi watches the stoplights cycle as pedestrians cross the street. Two people on the far side of the intersection catch Iwaizumi’s eye--a woman, maybe in her thirties, who was holding hands with a toddler. When the walk sign flashes for them to cross, the woman picks the child up and holds him close to her as she walks across the street. She has one hand on the back of his head, fingers carded through his hair, and her other arm is wrapped tightly around his middle. 

It’s such a simple gesture between mother and child, but anyone watching them can tell how much love and concern the woman has for the child, and how much inherent trust the child has for his mother. 

It makes Iwaizumi’s heart ache for something that he’ll never have again. 

“I told you about my family earlier,” Iwaizumi says to Oikawa, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “I think it's only fair that you tell me about yours.” 

Oikawa hums, stretching out his arms and leaning farther over the railing. “There’s not a lot to tell.” 

“Can you move back a little? You’re making me nervous, leaning so far forward like that.” 

Surprised, Oikawa takes a step back. 

“Even if there isn’t that much to say,” Iwaizumi breathes, relieved now that Oikawa isn’t about to fall off the balcony. “Tell me about them.” 

“I grew up with both my parents and an older sister,” he sighs. “It was a happy childhood, I guess, but things started to fall apart when my sister got pregnant while she was still in high school. My parents weren’t happy, they were traditional and would have preferred if my sister had gotten married first and gotten pregnant once she had a steady adult life. When they found out, they kicked her out, and I haven’t seen her since then. I was only around thirteen or fourteen when that happened and it’s weird, knowing that I probably have a niece or nephew out there somewhere. I never really forgave my parents for kicking her out--it still doesn’t make sense to me how someone could give up on their child that easily. I wish I could ask them what they were thinking when they did that.” 

“Why don’t you?” Iwaizumi asks. 

Oikawa stares back up at the sky without answering, and Iwaizumi feels like he’s crossed a line that he didn’t even know was there. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“It's fine,” Oikawa whispers. “They died in an accident during my last year in high school. I was already eighteen, and didn’t have any other living relatives, so I ended up on my own when that happened. I didn’t end up graduating.” 

With dry eyes, Oikawa lowers his chin, takes another step away from the railing, and goes back inside the hotel room. 

Iwaizumi is left alone underneath the stars, unsure what to feel. 

______

Iwaizumi wakes up early the next morning, early enough that Oikawa is still asleep in the bed next to his, snoring softly. He indulges himself in a quick look at Oikawa, studying how much younger he looks while he’s asleep and trying not to stare at his lips, plump and smooth. Iwaizumi’s mind drifts somewhere it shouldn’t, but he quickly snaps out of it and gets ready for the day. He texts Oikawa so that when he wakes up, he won’t panic when he sees that Iwaizumi is gone. 

He walks to a nearby used car dealership and doesn’t bother haggling with the salesman when he buys one of the cheaper cars for sale at the lot. It isn’t pretty but it drives, and that’s what matters. 

More importantly is his trip to the superstore. Iwaizumi heads to the sporting goods section and spends an unreasonable amount of time picking out a tent and sleeping bags. Something about staying in a hotel in a city doesn’t sit well with Iwaizumi, not when Shiratorizawa was able to find him even in the middle of nowhere. The best bet, he figures, is to hide somewhere in the forest, where they’ll be undetectable. He picks up a camp stove and some canned food as well, but something catches his eye as he leaves the sporting goods section. 

Firearms and ammunition.

Whatever state they’re in at the moment must have absurdly lax gun laws, Iwaizumi figures, if they’re just on sale at a pedestrian store for anyone to buy. 

He flags down a store employee to open the case, because it’s probably a good idea for him to have some extra ammo for his gun. The employee takes a couple boxes out of the brand Iwaizumi asked for. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” the employee asks, a bored look on their face. 

Without intending to, Iwaizumi thinks back to Oikawa asleep at the hotel. Right now Iwaizumi has his gun on him, leaving Oikawa vulnerable. What if someone were to get into their hotel room? Oikawa would have no way to protect himself, and he could be overpowered easily, considering how frail he was. 

Iwaizumi knows that the protective instinct that he felt for Oikawa is misplaced, but he can’t help himself. He’ll do anything to prevent something from happening to Oikawa, and if that means giving Oikawa a way to protect himself, so be it. 

“I’ll take one of the handguns as well, thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this kinda sucks and i'm sorry but ya girl is MASSIVELY depressed and just wanted to post SOMETHING


	5. Mare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: implied abuse, non-graphic violence

Somehow the weather gets even hotter, so hot that the road in front of them looks blurry and shimmery. Thank goodness it’s a dry heat, because if it was humid then Iwaizumi isn’t sure he would be able to stand it, especially in this piece of shit car that doesn’t have air conditioning. 

It’s been a few days since their night in the city, and conversation comes easily now that they’ve learned a bit more about each other. Iwaizumi finds himself enjoying Oikawa’s company.

They pass a billboard: _Roadside fruit market_ , and Oikawa lights up, pointing out the window. “Can we go to that?” 

Iwaizumi considers it--they’ve made good time in the past couple days and he’s feeling a little more secure with everything, especially now that he got Oikawa a gun. Not that he’s given it to him yet, though. 

“Sure,” Iwaizumi concedes. He doesn’t really feel like stopping, but the brilliant smile on Oikawa’s face is more than worth it. 

The fruit stand is a few miles down the road and Iwaizumi pulls over. There’s no parking lot, so he has to park the car on the gravel shoulder. The stand is filled with brilliantly colored fruit, bright red apples and orange clementines, with stacks of mixed berry clamshells on either side. There are fruit pies and wines for sale as well, and the thought of warm apple pie with vanilla ice cream makes Iwaizumi’s mouth water. 

“Iwaizumi, can I pick some stuff out?” Oikawa asks, leaning over the stand and looking closely at the display. 

“Yeah, of course,” Iwaizumi answers, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight onto one leg. Oikawa looks so content that it makes Iwaizumi’s heart hurt. He’s a bit sweaty, they both are, but for some reason Oikawa looks especially beautiful with the sheen of moisture on his skin. The sun has left a spattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose that are unfairly endearing. “What’s your favorite fruit?” 

“Hmm, I think I like pomegranates the most, but I haven’t had one in a long time. I like clementines too,” he says, smiling at nobody in particular. The man behind the stand selling the fruit clears his throat. 

For the first time since they got there, Iwaizumi gets a good look at the man selling the fruit. He has a stern, angular face, and underneath his wide brimmed hat he has ash-colored hair that’s darker at the ends. There are piercings lining his ears and tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his shirt. Not exactly the type of person that Iwaizumi would have imagined to be selling fruit on the side of the road. 

Oikawa gulps and visibly composes himself before speaking to the seller: “Are there any bags to put these in?” 

The seller looks at him closely before grunting and pulling a plastic bag from a box underneath the stand. He thrusts it towards Oikawa and Oikawa takes it timidly, clearly intimidated by the seller. A wave of protectiveness surges within Iwaizumi, but he quickly tamps it down. 

Oikawa takes his time looking through the fruit and picking out the best specimens. Every single one he picks up looks fine to Iwaizumi but apparently only a few of them are good enough. The seller’s eyes flicker between them, calculating, and it makes Iwaizumi’s stomach turn. He wants to get out of there, fast, but he knows that rushing or scolding Oikawa might make him upset, so he holds his tongue. 

After what feels like an eternity, Oikawa finally fills up the plastic bag full of fruit that’s up to his standard. He looks expectantly at Iwaizumi, who pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and forks over a wad of cash to the seller. He takes it wordlessly, but not without another punishing glare. Adrenaline suddenly pulses through Iwaizumi and he knows they need to leave as soon as possible.

“We should go,” Iwaizumi says, clearing his throat, and when Oikawa lingers he grabs his wrist and drags him back to the car. As soon as he touches the delicate skin on the underside of Oikawa’s wrist, he goes limp in Iwaizumi’s hold and lets himself be dragged. Guilt churns within Iwaizumi, but every single one of his instincts is screaming at him to get out of there. 

Iwaizumi breathes a sigh of relief when they both get back to the car, but Oikawa seems less content. His legs are drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped around his knees, and his face is pale despite the sweltering heat. His chest heaves unevenly and Iwaizumi’s heart flutters in panic. The bag of fruit sits on the floor of the car, forgotten. 

“Oikawa,” he says, careful not to touch him. Oikawa doesn’t look at him and curls in on himself even further. “Oikawa, listen to me.”

He glances at Iwaizumi out of the corner of his eye, but doesn’t say anything. 

“Oikawa, I’m sorry for grabbing you like that back there,” he says, putting the key in the ignition and starting the engine. “The seller was just giving me a bad feeling, and we needed to leave. I’m sorry if I upset you, are you okay?” 

“I guess,” Oikawa says, weakly. Iwaizumi puts the car in drive and speeds away. 

“Do you not like being touched?” 

“It depends on who touches me.” 

Iwaizumi’s gut plummets to the ground. “I’m sorry, I won’t touch you again if you don’t want me to.” 

Oikawa furrows his brow. “Why do you care what I want?” 

“What do you mean?” Iwaizumi asks. “Why wouldn’t I care?” 

“It’s not like anyone else does.” 

Once again, Oikawa’s truth makes Iwaizumi’s breath flutter uneasily. A tense moment passes where Iwaizumi isn’t sure what exactly to say, so he tries to change the subject. “Um, do you want some fruit? You were really excited about it earlier.” 

Oikawa wordlessly grabs a clementine from the plastic bag, and starts peeling it meticulously. He pulls the rind off in big strips and takes off all of the white stringy bits, placing them in a pile on the dashboard. Iwaizumi isn’t sure he’s ever seen someone so devoted to peeling a piece of fruit. 

He pulls the clementine apart piece by piece, eating each section individually and licking his fingers between bites. Iwaizumi worries that he’s going to crash the car, because he can’t take his eyes off of Oikawa’s pink tongue darting out of his mouth to lick the tips of his long, slender fingers. Oikawa pauses when there are two sections left.

“Do you want a piece?” he asks, softly. 

Iwaizumi gulps, still transfixed on Oikawa’s hands, and nods. Oikawa holds one of the sections up to Iwaizumi’s face, just a hair's breadth away from his lips. Iwaizumi’s face bursts into flames; he isn’t sure if he can breathe with those fingers so close to him. 

Not wanting to cross a line, he leans forward and takes the piece with his teeth, purposefully avoiding Oikawa’s skin. Oikawa seems unaffected, though. Is he consciously trying to give Iwaizumi whiplash? 

“I don’t _not_ want you to touch me,” Oikawa says, eating the last bite of clementine. “I’m just... weird about being touched, I guess.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Oikawa reaches into the bag for another clementine and starts peeling it, just as carefully as the last. He fully removes the skin and puts it in the pile before speaking. “There’s been a lot of times where someone has touched me when I didn’t want them to,” he says, eating a section of the fruit. “I think I subconsciously shut down when someone touches me. It’s easier not to think.” 

“That’s not a pleasant way to go through life,” Iwaizumi says, frowning. 

Oikawa laughs, self-deprecating. “Well, my life hasn’t been very pleasant. I think I’ve endured my fair share of hurt.” 

“I won’t hurt you, not if I can help it.” 

Oikawa wordlessly holds another piece of clementine up to Iwaizumi’s lips, with an expectant expression. He takes the fruit again, less careful this time. Oikawa’s hand lingers near his mouth, and the tips of his fingers brush lightly against Iwaizumi’s skin. Iwaizumi exhales a shuddering breath. 

“I know you won’t,” Oikawa says, turning his head to look out the passenger’s side window. 

_______

_Iwaizumi was startled out of whatever daze he was in by the tell-tale text phone sounding from his phone. He rolled over onto his stomach, still curled up in bed despite it being well into the afternoon. His sleep schedule was beyond fucked considering his unconventional work hours, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. He picked up his phone off of his nightstand and propped himself up on his elbows to read the message._

_It was from Ohira, saying that Tendou wanted to see them before they went out on assignment for the night._

_Iwaizumi groaned, burying his face against the pillow. Since he had barely any clout in Shiratorizawa, rarely did he have to deal directly with Tendou’s creepy ass. Usually it was Ohira who dealt with him._

_He dozed in and out of sleep for another couple hours before forcing himself out of bed and getting dressed. A little while later he’s following Ohira into Tendou’s office, dragging his feet. As awful as his work was, he would much rather be out on the streets threatening people than in the presence of Tendou._

_Ohira knocked on the office door and Tendou answered, gesturing the two of them in with an unnerving grin._

_“Sit, gentlemen,” Tendou said, walking back around his desk and sitting down. He propped his feet up on the top of the desk, just like he did during he and Iwaizumi’s first meeting. “Long time no see, Hajime. How have you been doing?”_

_“Fine,” he answered, voice clipped. He didn’t have the patience for Tendou’s insincere pleasantries._

_“Good, good, and how is my lovely Kiyoko doing? I haven’t seen her in a while but Kawanishi says that she’s as popular as ever.”_

_Iwaizumi bit back a grimace. “She’s fine as well.”_

_“Happy to hear that. Well, the reason I called you gentlemen in is because the Eagle has a big job for you two tonight. I assume you two are familiar with Tsutomu Goshiki?”_

_Ah, Goshiki. Iwaizumi had heard the name around the organization. Apparently he was somewhat of a prodigy, with potential acknowledged even by the Eagle themself. “Yes, I’ve heard the name,” Iwaizumi said._

_“Great, well recently he had been put in charge of one of our subsidiary units, but hasn’t been turning in Shiratorizawa’s cut of the subsidiary’s profits,” Tendou drones, examining his fingernails. “I suspect that he hasn’t been making good use of the forces allocated to him, and therefore hasn’t been collecting the money that is owed to him. As you would imagine, the Eagle is not pleased by that.”_

_“Ultimately, the Eagle entrusted me with handling the situation, which is where you two come in. I need you both to go collect the funds that Goshiki owes, and afterwards, I want you, Hajime, to kill him.”_

_Iwaizumi tensed, his jaw starting to tremble. “Why me?”_

_Tendou took his feet off the desk with a smirk and leaned forward onto his elbows, far too close for Iwaizumi’s liking. “You haven’t had to dispose of anyone yet, am I correct?” he asked, not bothering to wait for an answer. “You show much potential, Hajime, but you won’t be going anywhere in Shiratorizawa if you can’t handle a simple hit. Since this isn’t a hit on just anybody, I’m going to make the deal a little sweeter for you both.”_

_Tendou opened the desk drawer and took out a pen and paper, scribbling something down. “This is how much money you are to collect and the address where you’ll find Goshiki. Both of you get to keep ten percent of the collected amount as payment.” He pushed the note forward and Iwaizumi took it, tentatively. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw the amount written--ten percent of that would be enough to keep him and Shimizu housed and fed for a year, maybe even longer. Iwaizumi passed the note to Ohira, wide-eyed, and he sputtered at the amount as well._

_“Tendou, are you serious?”_

_“Sure am. I do wish I could kill him personally, but the Eagle told me not to, considering now much of a mess I tend to make,” Tendou said, his expression equal parts wistful and sinister. “I thought about sending Goshiki to Semi, but I figured it would be a good chance for our dear Hajime to be truly indoctrinated into Shiratorizawa. Ohira, you’ll make sure that the job is done how I would like it, correct?”_

_Ohira nodded, wordlessly._

_“Good, well you gentlemen should be on your way, then,” Tendou said, “who knows, Iwaizumi? Maybe you’ll even enjoy this, like I do.”_

_Ohira and Iwaizumi walked silently out of the office and to the car, and Iwaizumi tried to keep down the bile rising in his throat. When they sat down in the car, Ohira cleared his throat. “Um, are you okay?”_

_“Nope,” Iwaizumi answered honestly, not really giving a fuck about trying to keep up appearances. Ohira started the car without responding, clearly uncomfortable. “Who is Semi, anyway?”_

_The ever-composed Ohira shuddered at the mention of his name, alarming Iwaizumi.“Shiratorizawa is based out of this city, but has eyes all over the country. Eita Semi is the one who is in charge of field operations, as we call them. He’s about as high-ranking as Tendou, but in my opinion I would much rather deal with Tendou than him.”_

_**That** was shocking to Iwaizumi. He struggled to imagine someone more unpleasant than Tendou. _

_“How is that possible?”_

_“Tendou is a creep, but Semi is an honest-to-God lunatic. He might seem more collected than Tendou at first, but he’s completely unhinged,” Ohira said, shuddering. “Tendou cuts throats, but Semi prefers to burn people alive. He’s merciless--he’ll even kill his subordinates within Shiratorizawa without a thought. The Eagle has gotten on his ass about that, but he barely listens. Maybe that’s why he’s stuck working out in the field instead of here.”_

_It was late enough that very few people had their lights on, only the street lamps illuminated the night and flashed through the vehicle. The_

_“I hope I don’t run into him,” Iwaizumi breathed, nausea intensifying._

_“It’s not likely, I don’t think,” Ohira said, patting Iwaizumi on the shoulder and putting the car in park. “Anyway...I think we’re here.”_

_Oh, right. Iwaizumi almost forgot that he’s supposed to murder someone tonight. They’re in front of a high rise apartment building, at least thirty stories high with a facade full of windows. Some of them were lit up but most of them weren’t and Iwaizumi wondered if Goshiki kept his lights on. He got out of the car and followed Ohira to the lobby of the building. Luckily for them, the night receptionist was dozed off at his desk so they were able to step into the elevator unbothered._

_They rode up to one of the top floors, the hallway of the building silent enough that it gave Iwaizumi goosebumps. He followed Ohira to one of the closed doors and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to come to terms with his fate. They didn’t bother knocking, and instead Ohira kicked the door open._

_They stepped into an average looking apartment, and saw a person shoot up from where they were laying on a couch._

_“Hello, Goshiki,” Ohira said pleasantly, the casualness of his tone made Iwaizumi sick. “We’re here to collect some money that you owe us.”_

_“I have it,” Goshiki sputtered, eyes widening with disbelief over what was happening. “I have it, let me just go get it.”_

_He raced into another room and emerged with a silver metal briefcase. “Here, I’m sorry it took so long for me to get it to you. Is the Eagle angry?”_

_Neither Ohira nor Iwaizumi spoke a word, but the look in Ohira’s eyes let Iwaizumi know that it was time. Steeling himself, Iwaizumi walked up to Goshiki’s shaking form, and shoved him to the ground. He drew the gun from his back pocket and pointed it at Goshiki, who’s eyes widened when he realized what was happening. “Don’t do this, please don’t,” he begged, curling in on himself._

_Iwaizumi bit his lip, trying to brace himself for what he was about to do._

_“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t kill me,” Goshiki cried, eyes starting to fill with tears. “I’ll do anything, just let me live, I promise this won’t happen again.”_

_“Sorry, Goshiki. Tendou’s orders,” Ohira explained, and Iwaizumi was deeply grateful that he didn’t have to say it._

_Goshiki kept begging for mercy but Iwaizumi’s ears were ringing too loudly to comprehend what he was saying, so instead he got a good look at his face. His black hair was cut into a dorky bowl-cut, and his dark brown eyes were shaking as tears started to roll down his face. Iwaizumi felt his heart crack in his chest--Goshiki was just a kid. His life had just started, and regardless of what he was mixed up in he didn’t deserve to die._

_Swallowing down the acid burning his throat, Iwaizumi unlocked the safety of the gun. Goshiki’s whole form was shaking as he squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for was yet to come._

_When he finally pulled the trigger, Iwaizumi knew for a fact that he was not like Tendou. He would never, **ever** enjoy this. _

_____

By the time it gets dark, Iwaizumi and Oikawa find themselves in a small village, so small that the downtown only spans a single block. It was so small that there wasn’t a hotel for them to stay in, only a quaint bed and breakfast on a street corner. It's located in a gorgeous, brightly-colored victorian home that Iwaizumi would probably be able to better appreciate if he weren’t running for his life. 

A wind chime rings when they open the door to the B&B and a tiny old lady stands behind a counter that is almost too tall for her to see over. 

“How can I help you two handsome gentlemen?” she asks, putting on a pair of glasses that make her eyes comically large. 

“Are there any rooms available for tonight?” 

The woman takes out a massive binder and flips through it with knobby knuckles. She scans the page with her fingers and smiles triumphantly. “You’re in luck, dear. There’s only one room left--it’s yours if you would like it.” 

The woman leads Iwaizumi and Oikawa to the room. The house is decorated exquisitely, every inch of every wall is embellished and the spiraling staircases are lined with ornate railings. They have to climb three flights to the attic to get to their room and Iwaizumi is panting a little by the time they get there. He almost gets down on himself about being out of shape, but it's not like he’s had many chances to exercise for the past few weeks. She unlocks the door and the three of them step into the room.

The low, angled ceilings are covered in fairy lights, and there’s a picturesque window seat to the right, with the bathroom on the left. Floral wallpaper covers the walls and it’s dated in somewhat of an endearing way. It’s very cozy, Iwaizumi thinks, but one thing stands out. 

“There’s only one bed, ma’am?” he asks, gulping. 

“Oh dear, I forgot about that. Is that alright? This is the only room we have available.”

Iwaizumi looks anxiously at Oikawa, who has a neutral expression. He does _not_ want to make Oikawa uncomfortable, especially given their earlier conversation. 

“That’s fine,” Oikawa replies, with a small smile. 

“Alright, sorry about that!” the woman chirps, pushing her glasses up on her nose. “Breakfast is from eight to ten tomorrow.” 

She shuts the door behind her and the two of them are left in an uncomfortable silence. Iwaizumi drops his bag and peeks into the bathroom, very consciously avoiding the bed. The bathroom is just as quaint as the rest of the house, with a big clawfoot tub converted into a shower. “I’ll shower first,” Iwaizumi says, dragging his backpack into the bathroom.

He shuffles through the bag and his hand hits the new gun that he bought the other day for Oikawa. He’ll have to give it to Oikawa soon. The shower is short and he quickly gets dressed before going back out into the room. When he opens the door, he’s struck by what he sees.

Oikawa is sitting curled up in the window seat, staring out at the night sky. The dim lighting in the room combined with the light of the moon illuminates his face in a way that Iwaizumi can only describe as ethereal. 

There’s soft luminescence shining from behind him, creating a halo-like effect around his head. His face and body aren’t as angular as they were when Iwaizumi first met him, and his skin and hair is starting to gain a healthy shine. His chest moves in gentle breaths and there’s a wistful, faraway look on his face that makes Iwaizumi’s heart stutter in his chest. 

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi calls, voice soft and gentle. 

“Yeah?” he answers, still looking out the window. 

“I got something for you.”

Oikawa turns his head to look at him but doesn’t move from his spot in the window. Iwaizumi digs around in his bag and pulls out the gun by the barrel, slowly so that he doesn’t scare Oikawa. 

He approaches slowly and holds out the gun to Oikawa, with the handle facing him. Oikawa takes it from his hand, almost reverent in his actions. 

“I think it would be good for you to have to protect yourself,” Iwaizumi says. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” 

Oikawa stares at him with his big, shiny doe eyes that make Iwaizumi weak in the knees. His heart is racing, anxious in the strangely intimate situation. The air between them is charged, full of white-hot tension, and Iwaizumi has to force his breathing into something resembling normal. For the first time, he lets himself think about Oikawa in a way that he has been too scared to imagine before now. 

Lips against smooth skin. Pliable, supple muscle beneath warm palms, fingers twisted up in soft hair. A beautiful body flushed pink, choked gasps in each other’s ears, breathy moans of satisfaction. Iwaizumi wants him in every kind of way. 

“Thank you,” Oikawa breathes, keeping eye contact. It’s the longest they’ve ever looked at each other, but Iwaizumi can’t look away even though he feels his face heating up. Eventually Oikawa tears his eyes away, cheeks pink with embarrassment, and Iwaizumi forces himself to take a step away. 

“I can sleep on the floor, if you’d be more comfortable that way,” Iwaizumi says, thinking back to their conversation in the car. 

“That’s okay, I’m fine sharing the bed.” Oikawa says, standing up from his seat and walking into the bathroom. Iwaizumi’s feet are glued to the ground as he hears the door shut and the shower start to run. Eventually he drags himself to the bed, and is mildly horrified when he sees that it's an antique, even smaller than a standard full-sized bed. If both of them were to lay on it it would be very difficult not for some part of them to touch. The frame is wobbly and creaks loudly when he sits down on one side. 

There’s no point in delaying the inevitable, so he climbs underneath the blankets and very consciously stays on one side of the bed. There’s no way that the two of them will be able to share the bed without being close, and Iwaizumi’s heart pounds at the prospect. 

For once, Oikawa doesn’t take an hour-long shower, and before long Iwaizumi hears the water shut off and the bathroom door open. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that Oikawa doesn’t hear his rapid heartbeat when he lays down. 

A gust of cool air hits Iwaizumi when Oikawa pulls back the covers on the other side, and gently slides into bed. They’re near enough to feel each other’s warmth, but not close enough to be touching--which Iwaizumi is grateful for. He isn’t sure his heart would be able to take it if that were the case.

Regardless of the pounding in his chest, the warmth between them feels nice, and for some reason Iwaizumi finds himself relaxing into the sheets, soon drifting off into a dreamless sleep.


	6. Equinox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: implied abuse, firearms
> 
> sorry this chapter took a while and it probably has a lot of typos, i was just forcing myself to grind it out so i could post SOMETHING. i'll try and proofread later.

By the time Iwaizumi turns off the sputtering car motor, they’re an hour down a dirt road into the middle of a forest, surrounded by massive hickory trees and small mountain ridges. “Have you ever been camping before?” Iwaizumi asks, pushing open the driver’s side door and circling the car to open the trunk. 

Oikawa follows him out and helps him grab their camping gear out of the trunk. There’s quite a bit of it, considering how much gear Iwaizumi had bought the other day. “Um, not really. I’ve never had the chance to be outdoorsy,” Oikawa says, grabbing their sleeping bags. “Are there like… animals out here?” 

“Maybe a couple rabbits,” Iwaizumi says, laughing at Oikawa’s nervous tone. “These are actual campgrounds, not just a random forest, so we should be alright.” 

Oikawa pouts, clearly not reassured, but he carries their gear without complaint. They trek between the trees with Oikawa trailing slightly behind, climbing over rocks and crunching sticks underneath their shoes. There’s a slight breeze, just strong enough to rustle the leaves above their heads. 

Suddenly, a large branch falls between them with a _thud_ and Iwaizumi whips his head around when he hears a yelp behind him. He sees Oikawa, trembling, all the blood drained from his face.

“Did it hurt you?” he asks, and Oikawa shakes his head. Iwaizumi drops the gear and reaches his hand out for Oikawa to grab and climb over the branch, and he steadies Oikawa’s shoulders once he’s on the other side. “Are you okay?” 

Oikawa sniffles and to Iwaizumi’s massive surprise, rests his forehead against Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi is shell-shocked, unsure what to do, but Oikawa is trembling and he needs to do something, so he does what is instinctual and wraps his arms gently around Oikawa. 

It's a simple act of comfort but Oikawa sinks into it and Iwaizumi can feel his breathing even out against his collarbone. After a moment Oikawa pulls away, digging the heels of his hands against his eyes. Iwaizumi drops his arms to his sides and takes a miniscule step back to get a better look at Oikawa’s face. 

“Are you alright?” 

“The noise really scared me,” Oikawa murmurs, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s keep going.” 

“Stay close to me,” Iwaizumi says, picking the gear back up. He thinks that if his hands weren’t full, he might have taken Oikawa’s hand for the rest of their walk. Eventually they reach a clearing, a small meadow with tall grass, peppered with wildflowers. There’s a river coursing nearby, and Iwaizumi can hear the sound of a waterfall not too far away.

It’s breathtaking, Iwaizumi thinks, and based on the dazed look on Oikawa’s face, he feels the same. “Should we set up here?” he says, dropping the gear to the ground. 

“Yeah, we should set up the tent near where we can build a fire.”

“How do you know where to build a fire?” 

Iwaizumi hums to himself for a moment. “It should be somewhere without a lot of grass, ideally just a patch of dirt. We’ll have to find rocks to make a fire pit, and then sticks to burn of course.” 

Oikawa toes at the ground with his sneaker, shy. 

\---

“I feel disgusting,” Oikawa says after a few days of camping, and Iwaizumi can’t argue with that. It’s not like they’ve been rolling around in the grass, but days of sleeping on the ground in a tent and sitting around a campfire can make a person feel dirty. Iwaizumi’s laying in the grass, eyes closed as he feels the sunshine beat down on his face. A voice in the back of his mind tells him that it's not good to be out in the sun without sunscreen, but he figures that he doesn’t need to worry about wrinkles, considering that he probably won’t be alive much longer. 

Oikawa stands up from where he’s squatting on the ground, drawing patterns in the dirt with a stick. “I’m going to get in the water.” 

“Hold on,” Iwaizumi says, scrambling to his feet. “You’re going to get in the river?” 

“Yeah, is that a problem?” 

“Yes--I mean, no, but it might be dangerous,” he huffs, restraining his urge to grab Oikawa and stop him. “Do you know how to swim?” 

“Not really, but I’ll be fine. I want to see where the river goes,” Oikawa says, dusting himself off. “Feel free to join.” 

Iwaizumi follows him like a puppy, trying not to trip on the rocky riverbank. The river eventually gives way to a reservoir, the water clear enough to see the bottom. It’s gorgeous on its own, but what is truly breathtaking is the cliff in front of Iwaizumi and the rushing waterfall feeding into the pool, illuminated by the late afternoon sun. His jaw drops a little bit, amazed by the sight in front of him. 

He didn’t think he was capable of being awestruck like this. He’s so distracted by the scenery that he doesn’t see Oikawa strip down to his underwear. 

The noise of Oikawa’s clothes hitting the ground catches Iwaizumi’s attention, and his mouth instantly goes dry at the sight of Oikawa dipping his toes into the water. He can only see him from the back, but Iwaizumi can’t take his eyes off of the smooth skin pulled taut over Oikawa’s body. He’s still slim but he’s filled out nicely compared to when Iwaizumi first met him, the ridges of his spine aren’t visible anymore and his broadened shoulders taper into a slender waist. Iwaizumi’s gut plunges when he spots two dimples right at the base of Oikawa’s back, right about the waistband of his underwear. 

He feels like he can’t breathe. 

Oikawa gets into the water and quickly dunks his head under, pushing his hair back off of his face when he resurfaces. Finally, he turns around to face Iwaizumi, and there’s a brilliant smile on his face. “Are you going to get in? The water is warm.” 

Iwaizumi pulls his shirt over his head without breaking eye contact, and Oikawa looks at him with a quirked eyebrow and an expectant gaze. His cheeks heat up considering how intently Oikawa is looking at him, especially as he strips down to his briefs. It almost looks like Oikawa’s eyes flicker below his waist. 

Maybe Iwaizumi is just seeing things. 

He almost forgets to take off his socks before he gets in the water, but he peels them off right before dipping a toe in. Oikawa is right, the water is very warm. “I don’t think I’ve swam since I was in high school,” he says, leaning over the surface and splashing water on his face. It feels good, refreshing to have some of the dirt come off of him. When he lifts his head again, Oikawa is looking at him, a pink blush very obvious on his cheekbones. 

Oikawa looks away, shy, and Iwaizumi takes the opportunity to splash him. He squeals and runs away, as best he can when he’s up to his waist in water. Iwaizumi laughs at Oikawa’s theatrics and splashes him again. Their playful antics evolve into a full-blown water war, and they’re both breathless with laughter. Iwaizumi can’t remember the last time he felt carefree like this. 

Oikawa takes heaving breaths in between giggles, doubled over clutching his stomach. “I surrender, Iwaizumi, no more,” he laughs, beaming. Iwaizumi stumbles over to him, smiling back just as brightly. They’re content just being near each other until Oikawa’s foot slips on one of the rocks on the floor of the reservoir. They’re slippery, sanded down until smooth by the water coursing over them. 

He steadies himself on Iwaizumi’s shoulders and they’re close enough that Iwaizumi can feel his breath against his cheek. Once he catches his balance, Oikawa slides his hands down from Iwaizumi’s shoulders and lays his palms flat against his bare chest. He must be able to feel Iwaizumi’s heart pounding beneath his pecs. 

“Iwaizumi, I-” 

“Call me Hajime,” Iwaizumi says, tilting his head slightly to the right, their lips just a hairbreadth away.

Oikawa closes his eyes. “Hajime, I-, I- just-” he stutters. 

Iwaizumi’s eyes are still open, he can’t bear to look away from Oikawa’s face. He can’t bear to look away from those long lashes fluttered shut, the spattering of freckles on his cheeks, those plush pink lips that Iwaizumi just wants to-- 

Oikawa starts to tremble, and Iwaizumi’s heart drops. He can’t kiss him, it wouldn’t be fair to him, not when he’s so vulnerable. But pulling away doesn’t feel like the right thing to do anyway. 

His thoughts are cut off when Oikawa pitches towards him, wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck desperately. It catches him off guard but he quickly reciprocates the embrace so that Oikawa doesn’t feel rejected. Their bare skin touching sends pleasantly warm tingles throughout Iwaizumi and he settles into the hug, resting his chin on Oikawa’s shoulder. It feels nice--but more so it feels _right_. 

Oikawa trails one hand up his neck and tangles his fingers in Iwaizumi’s wet hair, and Iwaizumi has to bite his tongue so that he doesn’t shudder at the sensation of Oikawa’s nails ghosting lightly over his scalp. He squeezes him a little tighter.

He’s not sure how long they stay wrapped up in each others’ arms but eventually Oikawa pulls away, his gaze focused downward. Iwaizumi tilts his jaw up gently so that he can get a good look at his face, that beautiful, breathtaking face. 

“Are you okay, Oikawa?” 

Oikawa nods, rubbing at his eyes with balled up fists. 

“Do you feel less disgusting?” Iwaizumi asks with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. He’s not sure what upset Oikawa, but he’s desperate to make it better. 

Oikawa smiles, despite himself. “A little bit,” he says, resting his forehead on Iwaizumi’s collarbone for a moment before wading away back towards the river bank. 

By the time they find themselves back at the campsite the sun is setting and the air is cooling down until it turns into a chill that settles into the depths of their skeletons. Oikawa must be tired out from the time in the sun, Iwaizumi thinks, given the way he slips into the tent wordlessly. Iwaizumi is a little sad that Oikawa wants to go to bed so early, especially since he’s not at all tired. 

He follows Oikawa into the tent anyway and unzips his sleeping bag, crawling inside. He glances over at Oikawa and sees him laying down in his own space, facing away from Iwaizumi. His hair is still wet from the swim but is beginning to dry at the ends; Iwaizumi wonders how soft it must be. In spite of his wandering thoughts, Iwaizumi rolls himself over to face the other way and closes his eyes in a futile attempt to sleep. 

The roomy sleeping bags that Iwaizumi bought for them were supposedly high quality, but the tips of Iwaizumi’s toes are still cold even after curling in on himself for at least half an hour. He squeezes his eyes shut and scrunches his forehead, childishly willing himself to warm up. It almost works until he’s distracted by a small clicking sound from the other side of the tent. 

Oikawa is shivering violently, the clicking noise is evidently the sound of his chattering teeth. Iwaizumi has a knee jerk reaction to how to solve this problem, but he’s scared. He figures he might as well just try. The worst possible outcome is that Oikawa says no.

But what if he’s disgusted and storms out? And then he goes out by himself into the woods and is eaten by a bear? Iwaizumi isn’t sure he would be able to deal with that, not when he’s grown so fond--

Iwaizumi tries to stop his quickly derailing thoughts, but it’s hard when he can’t shake the sensation of Oikawa’s skin against his own from earlier today, those hands in his hair, soft breaths against his neck--

Now he’s really going too far. 

He’s brought back to the present by Oikawa’s teeth chattering once again. Iwaizumi steels himself with a deep breath. 

“Oikawa,” he says, too loud to be considered a whisper. He isn’t sure if it's loud enough to wake him up, or if he’s asleep at all. 

“Hmm?” Oikawa hums, wrapping the sleeping bag tighter around himself. 

“Are you cold?” 

“...a little.” 

“Umm,” Iwaizumi says, his heart beating faster than what should be fair at this moment. “You can come sleep over here, if you want… it might be warmer.” 

Oikawa turns over to face Iwaizumi, his eyes shiny, even in the darkness. “Okay.” 

Iwaizumi unzips the sleeping bag wide enough so that Oikawa can join him, and he shivers at the cold air that invades his space. Oikawa crawls out of his own makeshift bed and walks gingerly over to Iwaizumi. “You’re wearing shorts and a t-shirt to sleep, no wonder you’re so cold.” 

Oikawa looks away, almost ashamed. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Iwaizumi sighs, patting the space next to him. Oikawa crawls inside and just like that, they’re just centimeters apart, facing each other with their noses almost touching. It’s almost sickeningly intimate and Iwaizumi feels a warmth that’s completely new to him. Before he can chicken out, he asks for what he wants. “Can I hold you?” 

Oikawa releases a shuddering breath, closing his eyes, and it almost looks like he’s in pain. Iwaizumi’s heart sinks.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, you can say no, just stay right there--”

“No,” Oikawa breathes. “I want to, I want to,” he says, like he’s trying to convince himself. Iwaizumi almost insists that he stay away but he changes his mind when Oikawa sinks into his embrace, wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi isn’t sure his heart could be beating any faster but he rests tentative palms on Oikawa’s back. “You don’t have to stay here,” he murmurs, “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” 

Oikawa goes lax in his hold and exhales, breath tickling the delicate skin on Iwaizumi’s neck. Whatever he had experienced in the past paled completely to this moment, a warmth filling him that he didn’t think was possible. Pure, unbridled affection surges through him, especially as Oikawa’s breathing starts to even out. In a sleepy haze Oikawa cuddles up closer and swings a leg over Iwaizumi’s thighs. “I’m very comfortable,” he whispers. 

It’s warm and incredibly relaxing, laying like this, to the point where Iwaizumi’s own heartbeat starts to slow down and his eyelids start to feel heavy. The only other time he’s felt this content is when he and Kiyoko would drift off on the couch for a midday nap or after a night of work, bone-tired and leaning against each other. 

___

_”Hajime, it's time to wake up,” a voice called, quiet and affectionate. Iwaizumi felt a hand on his shoulder, jostling him back and forth gently. He leaned into the warmth, curling into it like a cat might. “Come on, up.”_

_Iwaizumi opened his eyes, tentatively, and saw Shimizu kneeling on the floor in front of the couch where he fell asleep for what was supposed to be a short nap. Shimizu was looking at him with so much love that it made his heart hurt, and he couldn’t help but think back to when his parents would wake him up for school when he was a child._

_He so terribly missed his mother._

_“What time is it?”_

_“Late,” she said, “we need to get going soon.”_

_Iwaizumi rolled over with a groan, covering his face and curling in on himself. The thought of another night under Tendou’s thumb made him want to throw up, but the worst part is that all things considered, he didn’t even have it that bad. Tendou made him kill Goshiki, but that had basically been the worst of it. He was sick to even feel that taking another person’s life might not be considered that bad. But that truly felt like nothing when Iwaizumi thought about what Shimizu had to go through every day. He felt nauseous, thinking about all the fucking creeps that Shimizu had to deal with, their hands all over, having to pretend that she liked it--_

_“Hajime.”_

_Iwaizumi uncovered his face, a lump choking up his throat, trying to steel himself for the evening. He went to the bathroom to freshen up and change out of his sweats, into the dark outfit that was required for the job. He braced himself, hands on either side of the sink. The bathroom door opened behind him and he saw Shimizu in the doorway in the mirror. He sighed, turning around to face Shimizu._

_She held her arms out for him and he went to her instinctually, as they pulled each other in for a hug. He lingered in the hug for a moment, trying to muster up the energy for the evening._

_“Love you, Hajime,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder._

_Iwaizumi kissed her cheek and squeezed her before letting go. “Love you too.”_

_They departed for the evening, walking to Shiratorizawa, and parted ways where they usually do. Iwaizumi hoped that it would be an average night, at least as average as it could be._

_And it started out to be so. The first few jobs were simple, the people paid right up without too much trouble, and it was looking to be a nice night of take home pay for him and Ohira._

_“This one is a little different,” Ohira said, as they parked outside of the last job of the night. “This woman is just a regular buyer, and is in heavy debt to one of the street dealers. Normally the dealer would just take care of it but the woman hasn’t been able to pay every single time the dealer has hit her up for it.”_

_Iwaizumi gulped, not sure if he wanted to hear what was next._

_“Tendou gave us the green light to finish her off if she can’t pay what she owes tonight. He said that they’ve already taken too much time in collecting from her, and that the dealer should have finished the job,” Ohira said, digging around in his pocket for something. He pulled out his phone just as it began to ring, and his eyes widened when he saw who was calling. “It shouldn’t be too hard of a job, so do you think you could take it by yourself? I have to take this--it’s Tendou.”_

_Iwaizumi gulped, but nodded, and Ohira gave him a grunt of thanks. He got out of the car, checked to make sure he had his gun on him, and walked up to the door._

_He knocked and a frail woman opened the door, looking much older than she probably really was. Iwaizumi forced his way in, like he normally did, pushing the woman back into her house. He felt bad that he had to rough her up, but that was part of the job, he supposed. By now he was used to it._

_“I heard you owe us some money, ma’am.”_

_The woman cowered against the wall, curling in on herself. “I know, I’m sorry, I don’t have it right now,” she stammered, putting her hands up in surrender. “I need more time, I’m sorry, I just have other things I need to--”_

_“What could be more important than this?” Iwaizumi shouted, pulling the gun out of his back pocket and pointing at her. “We’ve already sent people after you but we’ve gotten nothing. Are you taking advantage of our generosity? Our mercy? Because normally, we would have taken you out weeks ago.”_

_The woman’s face was splotchy as she started to cry, and Iwaizumi had to suppress the twinges of guilt that started to build inside of him. He hadn’t had to go after anyone this pitiful before. “I know, I’m so sorry, I just haven’t been able to get the money together, but I will, I promise--”_

_Iwaizumi clicked the safety off on his gun and the woman flinched, shutting her mouth, because she knew what was coming next. “You’ve got one last chance to pay up, or I pull the--”_

_“Mommy?_

_Iwaizumi whipped his head over to where a child, probably three or four years old, was peeking his head out of a doorway off to the right. Iwaizumi paled, horror flooding every cell in his body. The child was crying, looking distraught. Like any child would if they saw their mother gunned down by some criminal._

_“Go back in your room, baby,” the woman cooed, “everything is okay.”_

_“Mommy who is that man?”_

_Both Iwaizumi and the woman froze, unsure of what to say. The whole situation shifted when the child got involved, and it had Iwaizumi feeling incredibly ill. What the fuck was he even doing? How could he dare to take away a child’s mother, just for some money?_

_Why did he get himself involved in this in the first place?_

_Guilt and self-hatred started to consume him, and he felt his knees starting to wobble, overwhelmed. Iwaizumi dropped the gun, his arms hanging at his sides, and the woman visibly relaxed against the wall._

_The child dashed over to her, burying his face in her neck as she wrapped shaking arms around him. She stroked through his hair gently, comforting, still prioritizing her child even in the most extreme of situations._

_He couldn’t do this. He really couldn’t._

_Against all of his instincts, screaming at him to get on with the job, Iwaizumi shoved the gun back into his pocket and turned on his heel towards the door, pulling it open and slamming it behind him. He raced down the stairs back to the car where Ohira was waiting for him, and when he opened the car door the expression on his face must have given away how distressed he was._

_“Iwaizumi, what the hell happened?”_

_“I couldn’t do it, Ohira, I’m sorry,” he nearly sobbed, “there was a child, I couldn’t just kill the kid’s mom right in front of him.”_

_Ohira didn’t say anything, even as Iwaizumi fell forward, hiding his face in his hands. He patted Iwaizumi’s back in a half-hearted attempt at comfort._

_“What are we going to tell Tendou? He’s not going to be happy…” Ohira trailed off._

_“I don’t know, I’ll fucking pay whatever she owes, I don’t care anymore.”_

_Iwaizumi had hit a breaking point, he knew that for sure._

__  
____

“Do you need help carrying anything?” Iwaizumi asks as he picks up his bag off the ground. He feels very refreshed and strangely optimistic, probably because he woke up with the warm body of a very gorgeous man in his arms. It was the first time in recent memory that he woke up feeling completely content. Oikawa looked so peaceful sleeping that Iwaizumi couldn’t stomach waking him up, despite an intense pins and needles sensation on his arm. 

Instead he waited what must have been a few hours for Oikawa to wake up on his own, and made a pathetic attempt at pretending to be asleep when Oikawa started to stir. It probably would have been weird if Iwaizumi was just staring at him when he woke up--but Oikawa was just so pretty. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be any awkward energy between them as they untangled their limbs and got ready for the day. 

Oikawa rolls up his sleeping bag that went unused last night and swings it over his shoulder. “I can carry it myself, but thank you,” he says, genuine. Iwaizumi grunts and walks towards the road where they parked the car a few days back, arms full of camping gear. Oikawa follows after him quietly. 

To Iwaizumi’s relief, the car is still there and intact. Part of him worried that someone would have come and stolen it. 

He pops the trunk and sets all of the gear insides, and Oikawa walks up next to him and sets his own stuff beside it. Iwaizumi sneaks a glance at him, still feeling like he wants to look despite all of the staring he did this morning. God, he’s such a creep. But in his defense, Oikawa was unfairly beautiful. 

Iwaizumi slams the trunk shut, and for some reason he doesn’t feel like getting in the car. The past couple days had felt so nice, slow and uninteresting in a way that Iwaizumi had never experienced before. He didn’t want to get back on the road, back on the _run_ , but he and Oikawa had stayed in one place for too long. Someone from Shiratorizawa could be right on their tail. 

Begrudgingly, Iwaizumi turns on his heel to open the driver’s side door, but before he can reach for the handle, Oikawa stops him, planting his hand on the side of the car. 

Iwaizumi stumbles backwards, caught off guard by Oikawa’s sudden burst of movement. Before he can say anything, Oikawa pins him against the car, caging him in with palms resting on either side of his hips. 

Oikawa looks straight at him but his shoulders are trembling and Iwaizumi starts to panic. There’s nothing that can explain Oikawa’s sudden behavior and for a moment he thinks that Oikawa might hurt him, but those fears are squashed when Oikawa suddenly surges forward and kisses Iwaizumi. 

There’s a brief moment of shock before something white-hot takes over Iwaizumi, and he brings his hands up to hold Oikawa’s face. The kiss is chaste, close-mouthed, as innocent as any kiss can be, but it still triggers a burning spark somewhere deep inside of him and he sinks into it with a sigh of contentment. Oikawa trails his hands up Iwaizumi’s chest to wrap around his neck and pulls him impossibly close. 

Maybe it’s the built-up anticipation, or maybe it's because Iwaizumi hasn’t kissed anyone in god knows how long, but he thinks that nothing has ever felt this good. Oikawa’s body is warm against him and he laces his fingers in the soft, fluffy hair above the nape of his neck. Oikawa sighs, sounding content with the slide of their lips against each others’. 

After a blissful moment, Oikawa pulls away and rests his forehead against Iwaizumi’s, short breaths tickling his cheek. Iwaizumi looks at them, so beautiful, that perfect shade of honeyed brown that makes his cheeks heat up. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you,” he sighs, cupping one of Oikawa’s cheeks and running his thumb along the delicate skin of his cheeks. 

“Me too,” Oikawa says, fisting his hands in the back of Iwaizumi’s shirt. 

It’s late enough in the morning that the blazing sun has come out and beats down on them, especially since they’re up against the metal car, but Iwaizumi couldn’t care less, not when he has Oikawa pressed up against him, content in his arms. They stay holding each other, the space between them so small that they share breaths. Oikawa’s lips are full and pink, slightly slick from their shared kisses, and Iwaizumi can’t take his eyes off of them. 

“Please kiss me, Hajime.” 

Of course, Iwaizumi can only oblige, pressing another kiss on Oikawa’s mouth before running his tongue lightly along the seam of his lips. Oikawa shudders when Iwaizumi coaxes his mouth open and Iwaizumi’s blood _sings_ , lighting a whole new fire in his veins, and suddenly he’s unable to control himself. 

He licks into Oikawa’s mouth, sliding his tongue along the back of his teeth, the sensitive flesh on the roof of his mouth, fully tasting him, and god, he’s addicting. Iwaizumi can’t get enough, and the way that Oikawa melts in his arms only spurs him on. Before he can question himself, Iwaizumi abandons Oikawa’s lips and peppers kisses along his sharp jawline and down the column of his neck, savoring the slight saltiness of his skin, flushed from the summer heat. 

Oikawa lets out a breathy, trembling moan when Iwaizumi bites at his earlobe, and the noise makes Iwaizumi feel rabid, like he’ll die if he doesn’t pull more of those heavenly sounds out of Oikawa’s chest. 

Oikawa grabs Iwaizumi’s shoulders and pushes him back before dropping to his knees and _holy fuck_ , Iwaizumi thinks. Is this really happening? 

He runs a hand through Oikawa’s hair, shining russet brown underneath the sun, and his breath hitches when Oikawa looks up at him with big doe eyes. There’s an unreadable expression on his face, one that makes Iwaizumi a little uneasy. Wordlessly, Oikawa turns his attention to Iwaizumi’s jeans, working open the button and pulling down the zipper. He holds his breath as Oikawa pulls his pants to his knees and reaches up for the waist of his boxers. 

Through a haze of desire, Iwaizumi notices Oikawa’s hands trembling as he hooks his fingers underneath the fabric. Oikawa closes his eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath in, like he’s steeling himself for what's about to come, and Iwaizumi’s stomach plummets. 

“Oikawa,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to calm himself down. “Are you okay?” Oikawa stills and looks up to him, confusion obvious on his face. 

“What?”

“Your hands are shaking, are you nervous or something?”

Oikawa’s hands drop to his sides and he sits back on his heels, his hands sliding down halfway on Iwaizumi’s thighs. “I--, I don’t know. Maybe.” 

“We shouldn’t be doing this if you’re nervous,” Iwaizumi says, furrowing his brows. 

“But I have to, I have to do this for you,” Oikawa says, like he’s trying to convince Iwaizumi. “Right?” 

“Why would you have to do this?” 

“You-- you,” Oikawa stutters, mouth hanging open. “You’ve been doing all this stuff for me, I need to do something in return for you.” 

Mildly horrified at the implications of Oikawa’s words, Iwaizumi quickly pulls his jeans back up, as the heat that was once coursing through him quickly dissipates. “You don’t have to do anything for me, especially not something like--” he says, gesturing at nothing in particular, “--something like that.”

“You don’t want me to go down on you?” 

Iwaizumi flinches. “God, no-- I mean, yes, I do want you to go down on me. But you don’t _have_ to.” 

Oikawa’s eyes widen, stunned, but he doesn’t look like he’s ready to say anything, so Iwaizumi keeps talking. “If I do something for you, it’s because I care about you, and you don’t need to pay me back, or whatever. If I didn’t want to be taking care of you I wouldn’t be,” he says, “but I do. Want to take care of you, that is.” 

“But you’ve been so nice to me, I should do this for you.” 

Iwaizumi sighs, because Oikawa clearly doesn’t understand. “Do you _want_ to do that for me, though?” 

Oikawa looks at him, skeptical, like he’s about to tell him that this is one big joke. “Why would it matter what I want?” 

Iwaizumi’s jaw drops in shock, but he quickly picks it up off the ground, and drops to his knees so that he can be eye level with Oikawa. “Why would it _not_ matter what you want? Has nobody ever asked you what you want before?” 

When Oikawa doesn’t respond, Iwaizumi’s mind starts reeling, and the one thing he can’t get out of his mind is Oikawa’s ex. Things begin to come together--the ex that Oikawa is running from, his aversion to touch, his general skittishness--and embers of rage ignite in Iwaizumi’s gut. It makes him incredibly angry that someone could have made Oikawa feel like what he wanted wasn’t important, that someone could have _hurt_ Oikawa like that. 

Iwaizumi takes Oikawa’s hand and brings a gentle palm to his cheek, trying to put as much tenderness into the touch as possible. Oikawa’s eyes get shinier as his bottom lip starts to tremble.

“Oikawa, listen to me,” he murmurs, in an attempt to soothe. “I don’t know what’s in your past, but right now you do _not_ have to do anything for me if you don’t want to. Especially nothing like that. If you wanted to leave and go off on your own, if you never wanted to see me again, that would be fine. You can do whatever you want, there’s nothing and nobody controlling what you do right now.” 

A lone tear falls from the corner of one of Oikawa’s eyes and Iwaizumi quickly brushes it away. “I want to stay with you,” he says, “I feel safe with you.” 

Iwaizumi’s heart swells, warm in his chest. “I’m glad, Oikawa,” he whispers, studying Oikawa’s face, as he pulls them both to their feet. He’s so painfully pretty. “Can I kiss you?” 

Oikawa sighs, trembling, but it's different than before. He’s not trembling out of sadness, or _fear_ , and Iwaizumi can feel that in his heart. Oikawa nods, and Iwaizumi gathers him in his arms and kisses him, hoping that Oikawa can feel how much he cares through the press of their lips.


	7. Aphelion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be mindful of the content warnings, especially for this chapter. There are not detailed accounts of the things mentioned in the warnings, but please be careful anyway! If you would like to skip the chapter I'd be happy to give you a summary of what happened in the comments. 
> 
> CW: blood, human trafficking, sexual assault, abusive relationship

“Hajime,” Oikawa whines, fidgeting uncomfortably in the passenger seat. “I have to pee.” 

“I know, you’ve said that fifty times, already.” 

“But you haven’t stopped!” 

Iwaizumi sighs, glancing at Oikawa but keeping both hands on the steering wheel. They’ve been on the road for the whole day since leaving the campground without stopping. Iwaizumi had _insisted_ that Oikawa try and take a leak before they left, but _he_ had insisted he was fine. 

“We’ll get a room at the next motel that we pass,” Iwaizumi yields, gripping a bit tighter on the wheel. 

Nothing unsettling happened while they camped, but as they got on the road it started to sink in just how long they had gone without moving. An uneasy chill ran that he didn’t like ran straight up his spine--a stark contrast to the warm, maddening sensation that rushed through him while he and Oikawa kissed earlier in the day. 

Things had been too safe, too peaceful since the encounter with Shirabu. There’s no way that they’re actually safe or that Shiratorizawa actually lost track of Iwaizumi. Shiratorizawa is probably right on their tail, and it makes Iwaizumi sick to his stomach. He’s not sure why he even cares--he deserves to die in whatever way Shiratorizawa wants to kill him. If they killed him, maybe that would be karma for all the blood he’s spilled doing their dirty work. 

Maybe he only cares now because he has someone to care about other than himself. That was what kept him going for so long while he was actually in the game. Having someone to think about other than himself, someone to come home to. 

Was he getting ahead of himself? 

Probably, he figures, but at this point he doesn’t care all that much. For a while with Shiratorizawa, at the end, he had nothing to hope for, nothing to think about other than the scared faces and trembling hands of the people he killed. Everything that he cared about had been ripped from his arms, and he had to grapple with that all on his own. Until he met Oikawa, that is. 

All that aside, they were likely still in imminent danger, and that put Iwaizumi on edge.

“Hajime,” Oikawa whines again, pawing at his arm that’s tensely gripping the steering wheel. Iwaizumi yanks his wrist away from Oikawa and Oikawa recoils like he’s been slapped, the playful expression that brightened up his face quickly falling away. 

With the dejected expression on the other’s face, guilt fills the pits of Iwaizumi’s gut. He starts to apologize, but Oikawa already has his knees curled up to his chest, completely facing the other way. He looks like how he did when Iwaizumi first picked him up, scared and closed off, and it makes Iwaizumi sick to his stomach. 

He’s too afraid to say anything and Oikawa definitely doesn’t offer any words, so they sit in awkward silence until Iwaizumi pulls into the parking lot of yet another cheap motel. 

“I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi says, closing the motel room door behind them. 

“For what?”

“Yanking my hand away like that. I should have been more mindful of you.”

Oikawa sets his bag down on the bed that’s on the far side of the room. “It’s okay,” he says. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

It’s still light out, so Iwaizumi checks his phone. “It’s only seven.” 

“I’m tired,” Oikawa says, simply. 

Iwaizumi tries to protest but is silenced by a slamming bathroom door, leaving him alone in the dingy motel room.   
____

_”Would you like to explain yourselves?” Tendou’s voice echoed through the office. He had been eerily quiet when Iwaizumi and Ohira first sat down, completely silent save for the desk drawer opening so that he could take out his razor. It laid unsheathed in front of him, Tendou not moving or fidgeting with it like he usually did, and Iwaizumi didn’t know if that meant he should be scared._

_More scared than he usually was._

_After finishing jobs, they had to meet Tendou in his office to deliver the money they had collected. Tendou would count the bill meticulously, pluck a few from the stacks for each of them, and then do God knows what with the rest of it. Now there was no money to count, and Tendou looked at them expectantly._

_“Its my fault,” Iwaizumi admitted, trying to keep Ohira out of it. “I couldn’t finish the job.”_

_“And why is that?”_

_“I-- um--” Iwaizumi wasn’t sure why couldn’t bear to say it. He started to feel overwhelmed--in his heart he knew he did the right thing by not taking the life of a mother right in front of her son’s eyes. He can’t even imagine the trauma that boy would have had to go through if that happened, if he had been so cruel to do that. But his brain knew that he was on the chopping block now. Quite literally, if the knife on Tendou’s desk was any indication._

_He stuttered through a bullshit excuse, but Tendou’s face quickly twisted up in rage, and he stood up so suddenly that Iwaizumi flinched back, unable to help himself._

_“What happened?!” Tendou shouted, slamming his hands down on the table. The razor rattled from the impact, drawing Iwaizumi’s attention away from Tendou. Evidently, that made him unhappy, so Tendou reached across the desk, steadying himself with one hand and gripping Iwaizumi’s jaw with the other._

_Iwaizumi knew he was in for it if he didn’t start talking. “I went in for the job by myself without Ohira, but I couldn’t finish it.”_

_“And why is that?”_

_“The lady didn’t have the money, and right as I was about to shoot, a little kid showed up,” he wheezed, Tendou squeezing his jaw tighter. “I couldn’t kill her right in front of the kid.”_

_Tendou’s face morphed into something neutral. “And Ohira had nothing to do with this?”_

_Iwaizumi shook his head._

_“Go, then,” Tendou said to Ohira, nodding towards the door. Ohira scurried out of the room, slamming the door. At that moment, Iwaizumi knew that this would be the end for him._

_He didn’t know if it was standard practice for Shiratorizawa to kill their underlings after a single failed job. It probably wasn’t, Iwaizumi figured, but he also knew that Tendou was unpredictable and would not hesitate to kill at a moment’s notice._

_Tendou released Iwaizumi and sat back in the large, leather chair behind the desk. He picked up the razor and started playing with it, the sound of metal on metal sending chills up Iwaizumi’s spine._

_“So, what do you propose that we do about this, my dear Hajime?” Tendou asked, keeping his attention on the blade._

_“I’ll pay the difference, I’ll work for free, I’ll do anything--”_

_“I don’t think you understand me,” Tendou interrupted. “I’m not interested in the money. Shiratorizawa has plenty of it.”_

__Then why am I getting in trouble for this in the first place? _Iwaizumi wanted to say, but didn’t._

_“Money means nothing to me, Hajime. The money you would have collected from this job would have been a drop in the bucket. What really needs to be dealt with is you,” Tendou said, in almost a sing-song voice. “So I’ll ask again. What do you propose we do about this?”_

_Iwaizumi didn’t dare speak. Tendou eyed him for a moment, and then laughed, maniacal. “Nothing to say?”_

_“I- uh- sir--” Iwaizumi stammered, flailing but eventually tapering off into nothing. The smile dropped off Tendou’s face and he swiped the razor off of his desk, blade still unsheathed. He grabbed it so recklessly that it cut his palm, blood starting to drip on the floor. He stood and walked around the desk, settling right in front of Iwaizumi._

_“If you don’t have any ideas,” Tendou said, “maybe we can use one of mine.” He took the blade in his other hand and used the bloodied one to grab Iwaizumi’s face again, forcing him back against the chair. Tendou pressed the blade right beneath his other hand, laying the flat side flush against Iwaizumi’s neck._

_Tendou must have been able to feel the fear pulsing through Iwaizumi, because it was starting to consume him. That seemed to be the only emotion he could feel anymore--fear._

_He felt regretful too, though, although for a moment he wasn’t sure what he regretted. Maybe he regretted the first day he came to Shiratorizawa, when his only goal was to make sure that Kiyoko was safe. Or maybe it was when he offered himself to Shiratorizawa like an animal for slaughter._

_Either way, when Tendou tilted the blade so that the fatally sharp edge pushed against Iwaizumi’s skin, just a movement away from slitting his throat, Iwaizumi knew he deserved what was about to come. He hated that he would have to leave Kiyoko by herself, but she would be okay. It was always her saving him, and never the other way around. Nobody needed him, and with all of the atrocities he’d committed, for him to die would probably be the best._

_Iwaizumi closed his eyes and waited for what he knew was coming to him._

_Until it didn’t._

_The sticky, cold blade fell away from his neck and his eyes slowly opened, Tendou’s face still just inches away, but instead of the icy cold stare that he had as he put the knife to Iwaizumi’s throat, there was a smile--sick and unhinged._

_It sent a chill down Iwaizumi’s spine._

_“Actually, I’m not sure that I want to kill you now. I think there’s a way to punish you that might be more fun, if you can believe it,” Tendou purred. “You’re dismissed.”_

_Iwaizumi was still shaken up by his encounter with Tendou the next day, understandably, but Shiratorizawa stopped for no one, so he met Ohira at headquarters for the night’s jobs anyway._

_“Shit, I gotta take a leak,” Ohira grumbled, buckling his seatbelt. They had only finished one job for the night, and usually they waited until later to take a break._

_“You can’t wait until later?” Iwaizumi asked. Ohira shook his head and Iwaizumi sighed, looking out the window. “My apartment is only a block or two away, so we can stop there for a second.”_

_Iwaizumi walked them up and pointed Ohira to the bathroom, but waited at the front door for him--he wanted to get the night over with as soon as possible. He heard the bathroom door creak open and soon after a gasp._

_“Iwaizumi, come here.”_

_The tone of Ohira’s voice made Iwaizumi’s gut plummet. He knew this couldn’t be good._

_The sight he was greeted with in the bathroom was something out of his worst nightmare. Not even his worst nightmare, because there was no way his mind could every conjure up something this horrifying._

_A metallic smell overwhelmed him and his entire body started to shake, but he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything at all._

_White porcelain stained red, dripping down the sides like it was still warm, still fresh. A body splayed out in the tub, limp limbs draped over the sides. Long black hair, matted with blood. A long cut across the pale skin of her throat, with gashes all over the rest of her body. Shimizu._

_Iwaizumi fell to his knees._

_____

Iwaizumi sits straight up in bed, heart racing and sweat beading at his temples. It hadn’t been too long since that night, but he was already getting sick of reliving it in his nightmares. He feels wetness on his cheeks and realizes that he had been crying in his sleep; he buries his face in his hands and draws his knees up close to himself. There probably isn’t a more pitiful sight in the whole world. 

That’s what he thinks until he hears sniffling off to his left and looks to see Oikawa in the other bed, tears streaming down his face. Looks like both of them are plagued by bad dreams this evening. 

Oikawa still seemed a bit upset with him, but Iwaizumi can’t stand to just leave him to suffer in whatever nightmare that he’s trapped in, so he pulls himself up and kneels near the side of Oikawa’s bed. 

He’s laid on his side, curled in on himself, and Iwaizumi runs the back on his knuckles along his damp cheeks for a few moments, hoping that the gentle contact rouses Oikawa from his fitful sleep. 

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, just loud enough to hear over Oikawa’s sniffling, seeing that the touch won’t be enough to wake him. “Oikawa, please wake up.” 

That doesn’t work either, and Iwaizumi can’t bear to watch Oikawa crying any longer. He grabs his shoulder and shakes, desperate to wake him up. “Tooru!”

Oikawa’s eyes snap open, pupils wide in the barely lit motel room. He looks straight through Iwaizumi, eyes glazed over in fear. His breath is rapid and trembling, and Iwaizumi is acutely aware that Oikawa could very quickly hyperventilate. 

“Tooru, look at me,” he begs, cupping Oikawa’s face. He pulls one of Oikawa’s limp arms towards him and rests Oikawa’s palm against his chest. “You’re okay, just look at me, please.”

Oikawa blinks a few times, recognition finally blooming in his gaze, and Iwaizumi deflates in relief. “Hajime?”

“It's just me, Tooru, you’re okay.” Oikawa relaxes, like a puppet cut from its strings, and his eyes fall shut. “Breathe with me, Tooru, you’re okay.” 

Iwaizumi lets his chest rise and fall, controlled, hoping that it's enough to calm Oikawa down. He runs a comforting thumb along Oikawa’s damp cheek, marveling at how he can look so pretty even like this. They stay quiet for a moment as Iwaizumi waits for Oikawa’s tears to stop falling, and despite the tension, the intimacy of the moment fuels a spark of warm satisfaction in Iwaizumi. 

Oikawa scooches back and lifts the corner of the blanket covering him in invitation, and Iwaizumi quickly accepts, crawling in and settling close to Oikawa, pulling him close and slipping a soothing hand underneath Oikawa’s shirt and up between his shoulder blades. Oikawa nuzzles his head against Iwaizumi’s firm chest, his calmed breaths tickling Iwaizumi’s skin. 

“You don’t have to, but it might make you feel better if you talk about it,” Iwaizumi whispers, burying his nose in the mess of hair on the crown of Oikawa’s head. Oikawa doesn’t say anything, but Iwaizumi doesn’t sense any resistance either, so he presses. “What were you dreaming about?” 

“A lot of things.” 

“Tell me about them.” 

Oikawa takes a deep breath, steeling himself. 

____

_The legal proceedings surrounding Oikawa’s parent’s death were long and complicated, and considering he was already eighteen, the state was not of much help to him. Not at least until the court successfully contacted his sister. Getting a hold of here was bound to be a long shot. He hadn’t spoken to her since his parents kicked her out--she must have changed her phone number when his parents took her off their phone plan. Oikawa’s parents were both first generation immigrants, so any family members he had were back in Japan. He had never met any of them anyway._

_So, he was on his own to deal with the overwhelming grief. Grief so horrible that it forced him to drop out of school before graduation. Whatever money his parents had was locked up for the time being, so he had to find some way to sustain himself._

_An ad for hospitality work seemed to be the answer, especially when he was given the job right away. Despite whatever hardships, Oikawa was still an ambitious person at heart, and he did his best to steel himself for his first day on the job._

_He was a little surprised, though, when the address he was given was a parking lot, empty except for an older gentleman with slicked back hair and thick eyebrows leaning against a black van._

_“Um, are you Tanji Washijo?” Oikawa asked, remembering the name from the job posting._

_“Are you Tooru?”_

_“Yes.”_

_The old man beckoned him over. Oikawa approached carefully, taking apprehensive steps until Washijo yanked him forward, driving something metallic and hard into Oikawa’s stomach. “Make a sound and I’ll shoot.”_

_Icy cold fear coursed through Oikawa as Washijo shoved him into the back of the van, where a few others were sitting with wide, spooked eyes. There were three girls and one other boy, most of them had to be around Oikawa’s age. Washijo sat in the driver’s seat and turned around. “Give me your phone.”_

_Too afraid that he would be hurt, Oikawa handed it over, and didn’t even have the cognizance to protest when Washijo threw it out of the window. He was too horrified with what was happening, what was about to happen._

_The ride was a few days long with only a few stops, Washijo watching them at the rest stops to make sure they didn’t run off. When they were finally to their destination, Oikawa found himself in the middle of a big city, but the air was warm and salty. Palm trees lined the streets rather than the maples Oikawa was familiar with, and he knew had to be far from home._

_“Come on, get inside,” Washijo barked, corralling the few of them into a door that led directly down stairs. He kept a hand on the holster hooked on his belt, as if to remind them. “Showers are to your right and then come back here. Don’t dawdle.”_

_After Oikawa bathed, Washijo led him to a room down the hall. It looked like a bedroom but it was definitely not a place where Oikawa would have wanted to sleep. There was a double bed centered against the left wall with a sunken mattress and ratty sheets. Next to the bed was a dingy floor lamp, a fly buzzing around the lamp shade. The tiny, frosted window at the top of the far wall did nothing to light up the room._

_“Don’t you dare leave this room. I’ll be back soon.”_

_Washijo came back true to his word, but to Oikawa’s surprise he wasn’t alone. A taller, larger man followed him in and Oikawa wrinkled his nose at the man’s stubbly beard and stained shirt._

_“You’re in luck, sir,” Washijo said, “this one is new.”_

_The man smiled. “He’s a pretty one.”_

_Washijo approached Oikawa, terribly intimidating despite the fact that Oikawa had nearly a foot on him. He shoved Oikawa back towards the bed. “Make it good for him, or else there will be consequences.”_

_After Washijo stepped out and slammed the door, Oikawa was alone with the large man. He stepped towards Oikawa cowered backwards, like prey trying to escape from a predator. Tears filled his eyes as he sat on the bed, practically immobilized by fear._

_“Now, now, don’t cry. A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t cry,” the man said, pressing his nose to Oikawa’s cheek. Oikawa turned his head, trying to resist. “This is happening whether you like it or not, so you might as well lay back and take it.”_

_So Oikawa did. And that became his job, so to speak._

_Time became meaningless. It could have been weeks, months of being used over and over. Oikawa couldn’t tell. All he knew is that from time to time he was allowed to shower and eat. Respite came one day after one of Oikawa’s regular customers. He was curled in on himself on the bed when Washijo barged in. Oikawa assumed it was to bring in another customer._

_“Get up!” Washijo shouted, so Oikawa dragged himself up onto his feet. The person with him looked nothing like the usual monsters that Washijo brought in for him. This man was tall with a broad, athletic build, and Oikawa guessed that he couldn’t be much older than himself. Thick eyebrows framed a sharp, masculine face._

_If Oikawa was being honest with himself, this newcomer was handsome._

_“What do you think, sir?”_

_The man approached and tilted Oikawa’s chin up towards him, appraising him like he was a product. “He is satisfactory.”_

_“Come on, brat,” Washijo said, yanking Oikawa up and dragging him out of the room, following the handsome man. “You’re going with him.”_

_Oikawa followed him out to a large, black car with tinted windows, both of them sitting in the back. The man’s chauffeur, presumably, sat in the driver’s seat. They rode in silence until the driver took them to the parking lot of a high rise apartment building. Oikawa followed the man up to the top floor and into an extravagantly decorated loft. The floor-to-ceiling windows provided a lovely view of the city skyline and Oikawa found himself staring before the man’s voice startled him back into the moment._

_“What is your name?”_

_“Tooru Oikawa.”_

_The man hummed. “My name is Wakatoshi Ushijima, but you will call me sir. You will be my companion for the time being. You will sleep in the guest room, until a doctor can come and test you for STDs. After that you may sleep in my room with me. Occasionally I will need you to accompany me to various events, so there are clothes for you to wear on those occasions in the guest room closet, as well as toiletries you may need in the guest bathroom. If you find yourself needing anything, you may ask, but I anticipate that your needs will be met as long as I am around. I will be away on business quite often, so you will be alone in the apartment frequently. The apartment is alarmed to prevent theft and the alarm will be enabled whenever I am not home. Only I will know the code to disable the system, so if you open any doors or windows when I am not home the alarm will be triggered and I will be notified. Do not try to leave the apartment unless I am accompanying you.”_

_If Oikawa was of anything that resembled a sound mind, he would know that Ushijima’s proposal was definitely not okay. Ushijima basically sentenced him to prison in this beautiful apartment, but Oikawa was so grateful that he would have a warm place to stay, a comfortable bed, and enough food, that in the moment Ushijma was his savior._

_“Do you understand?”_

_“Yes, I understand.”_

________

_“Oikawa.”_

_“Yes, sir?”_

_“You will be accompanying me to dinner tonight with a few work associates. Be ready by eight and make sure that you’re wearing one of the suits from the closet.”_

_Oikawa followed Ushijima’s directions without complaint--it was nice for Ushijima to treat him to a nice meal. It had only been a few weeks of this live-in situation and Oikawa didn’t have any substantive complaints so far. Ushijima didn’t require much conversation and spent most of his time outside of the apartment, true to his word. Oikawa was just grateful that he didn’t have to ‘work’ down in the basement anymore._

_Sex with Ushijima was… tolerable. He certainly wasn’t attentive to Oikawa’s needs--Oikawa always had to prepare himself and clean himself up after, but to Oikawa he was nice to look at, which couldn’t be said for his previous customers. It was usually only a few uncomfortable minutes until Ushijima finished, and then Oikawa would be left to his own devices until the next night._

_The restaurant was the nicest Oikawa had ever been to. Ushijima’s dinner preferences made sense considering how expensive his apartment was. Before they sat at the table, Ushijima faced Oikawa and gripped his shoulder tightly._

_“You don’t speak unless spoken to. Understand?”_

_Oikawa gulped, nodding slowly._

_A few other men joined them after a few minutes and they slipped into a curt, professional conversation. Their words were nebulous and vague, and Oikawa hadn’t been able to pick up on what they were talking about--almost like they were talking around something. Oikawa was mostly able to space out for the duration of dinner, sitting there and eating what Ushijima had ordered for him._

_“I need to use the restroom,” Ushijima said as the meal was winding down. “Do not move from your seat.”_

_Not like Oikawa planned to._

_“So you’re Wakatoshi’s newest plaything, huh,” one of the other men said, leaning across the table. Oikawa didn’t feel that warranted a response, but he also knew that Ushijima would be angry if he was rude to the other guests. He didn’t get a chance to say anything before the other man spoke again, a maniacal look in his eye. “You’re a pretty little thing. Maybe not as pretty as some of his other pets, but still pretty. You think he’d let me have my way with you?”_

_Oikawa was so shell-shocked by the suggestion that he failed to understand just how fucked up this situation was. This other man was talking about him as if he was some kind of toy._

_“I, um-- I don’t know if--”_

_The other man snorted and leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his unruly, crimson hair.. “I doubt Ushijima would be okay with such a thing. He doesn’t like to share his toys, which is hypocritical considering how many he keeps on the side.”_

_Ushijima had others on the side?_

_It made an unpleasant anger roll in Oikawa’s stomach, bile bubbling up high enough to threaten the back of his throat. He wasn’t sure why he was upset--it’s not like he and Ushijima had ever talked about the exclusivity of their relationship. If you could even call it a relationship. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how fucked up this arrangement was._

_The car ride home was quiet as usual, but the silence made Oikawa uneasy. He wanted to, needed to say something about what Ushijima’s business associate said. He was washing up for bed when he saw Ushijima come into the bathroom with him._

_“What kind of business are you in?”_

_Ushijima pauses. “That’s none of your concern.”_

_“I feel like I have a right to know, since I live here and all, and since you insist on fucking me every night,” Oikawa said, unable to tamp down his anger. “And according to your friend at dinner, I’m not the only one.”_

_Oikawa turned back to the sink and splashed water on his face, trying to cool himself down. He’s interrupted by a rough palm grabbing his shoulder and turning him around._

_Ushijima’s olive green eyes bore into him. His expression was neutral but his demeanour was enough to make Oikawa cower. “I’ve shown you a great kindness by letting you stay, when I could have let you rot with the rest of those whores. I will not hesitate to send you back if you give me a hard time.”_

_Too afraid to say anything, Oikawa shook his head. He would rather die than go back to that dark room, violated by stranger after stranger._

_“That’s what I thought. You would have died of disease soon anyway, so you can thank me for your life.”_

_As if he cared about living anymore._

_Ushijima let go of him and Oikawa left quickly to the bedroom, grabbing the bedroom doorknob to leave, but Ushijima’s booming voice stopped him yet again. “Where are you going?”_

_Oikawa sighed. “The guest room.”_

_“And why would you be going there?_

_“I don’t want to sleep in here tonight.”_

_Ushijima grabbed his arm that wasn’t hanging onto the doorknob. “I don’t think so.”_

_“What do you mean--” Oikawa gasped as Ushijima pulled him onto the bed. “Wait a second--”_

_“I give you a place to live and food to eat. I give you everything you need, so what you want doesn’t matter. This is your duty, now.”_

_Ushijima pinned Oikawa’s arms beside his shoulders and his pants yanked down to his ankles. Oikawa didn’t care to remember what happened after that._

____

Iwaizumi wipes gently at the tears that wet Oikawa’s cheeks that were finally filling out. His chest has never hurt so bad with pain for another person, but he keeps his mouth shut until Oikawa is finished. 

“It went on like that for a while--him using me whenever he wanted and me taking it because I had no other choice. Or at least I thought I didn’t, but I could have fought back more, I could have tried to escape earlier, or something like that, I don’t know--” 

“Don’t say that, Tooru. You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing that happened was your fault,” Iwaizumi interrupts for the first time that night. 

Oikawa sniffles and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “Something changed, after a while. He was barely home and barely took me out, so there was hardly ever anything to eat. He was even rougher than usual, not just during sex. Whenever he _was_ home, it was just to fuck me or slap me around.

“I noticed over time that he was a heavy sleeper. After he would finish with me and fall asleep, he would never wake up when I went to the bathroom to clean up. There was one night where he was so rough, and it hurt so bad that I couldn’t even cry. The bedroom door was cracked open and from where I was laying I could see the alarm system. It was lit up green, disabled, and I moved without thinking. It was like my brain shut down and my body was functioning on its own--I threw on the first set of clothes I could find and I ran.

“Obviously I didn’t have anywhere to go, so I was out on the street for a while. I didn’t have any way to sustain myself so I just threw myself at anyone who wanted a cheap fuck. Once I felt like I had collected enough money, I gave it all to a cab driver and told them to take me as far as the money could go, which ended up being that gas station. 

“And then you found me.”

“Tooru, I’m so, so sorry, I don’t even know what to say,” Iwaizumi gasps, holding back sobs. It's ridiculous that Oikawa is the one who had to live with this, but Iwaizumi is the one breaking down just from hearing the story. Words had never been his strong point, so he tries to show his concern by running gentle fingers through Oikawa’s hair and a soothing hand along the ridges of his spine. 

After a quiet moment, Oikawa speaks. “It’s okay. It just feels nice to say it all out loud.” 

“I swear to god, nothing bad will ever happen to you again. You’ve lived through more than any one person should. I’m going to keep you safe, I promise,” Iwaizumi says. “If you’ll let me.” 

“I’d like that, Hajime. Can you do something for me, though?” 

“Anything.” 

“Kiss me?” 

And so Iwaizumi does. They kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and Iwaizumi doesn’t even notice or care that Oikawa’s tears get all over his face. All he knows or cares about is that the most resilient, most beautiful person on the planet is in his arms, kissing him back fervently. They stay wrapped up in each other until they fall into a deep sleep, both of them physically and emotionally exhausted. It's the most restful sleep Iwaizumi has had in months, maybe even years. 

Until he wakes up to a caustic, acrid smell, filling the room.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos greatly appreciated, as always!


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